Lost in the Dark
by darksupernatural
Summary: Sam, Dean and John go on a hunt for something that is killing people. Things get bad when the snow flies. Hurt, limp Sam. Hurt Dean. Lots of angst and problems for the guys. teen-chester. Challenge issued by Sammygirl1963.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here's that challenge I mentioned taking from Sammygirl1963. I'm pleased with the way this one is going so far and I hope you all will be too. This one would be set about three years after my last one, Silent Blood on the Bayou Waters, but it stands alone other than a mention of a promise made. Don't hate me, the first chapters are slow. I will make up for that. Again this one will be updated nightly. Thank you all in advance for checking this one out and give it a try. Enjoy!**

**Sammygirl! I so hope this is what you wanted. I'll talk to you soon.**

**Blue Peanut: you've been great for bouncing ideas and scenes off of. Hope you like how it came together.**

** Lost in the Dark**

**Chapter 1**

Twenty-one year old Dean waited in the Impala for his seventeen year old brother outside Midland Valley High School. He heard the bell ring and saw kids begin to pour out the front entrance. Eventually Sam came out, backpack slung over his right shoulder and books in his hands. He stood taller than most of the other kids in his grade and was easy for Dean to spot. A jock in a lettermen's jacket nudged Sam hard and his books went flying. "Sonofa…" Dean got out of the car, trademark squeak of the doors alerting Sam that he was there. Sam motioned for him to stop. He turned to the jock that had been harassing him and said something that Dean couldn't hear. The jock marched up to Sam and stood in his face, talking angrily and gesturing hugely before poking him in the chest and pulling back a fist. He swung the beefy fist at Sam, who dodged the blow and took the jock to his knees with one of his own. The crowd that had gathered cheered when the jock went down hard with a gasp, shielding his ribs. Sam ignored the writhing jock and leaned down to pick up his scattered books, bumping heads with a raven haired girl. Dean as he watched couldn't help but mutter "Nice."

"Ow." Sam said, standing up and rubbing the crown of his head. The person he'd bumped did the same. "Oh, sorry Rachel. Are you okay?" Rachel smiled and held out the book she'd picked up to Sam, who reached out to take it.

"You have a bit of a hard head Sam Winchester." Rachel said. "Apparently a pretty hard fist too. Mark so needed that, the jerk. Hey, the Winter Formal is coming up. Are you going with anyone?" She blushed and pulled her hand off the history book that Sam had been grasping for at least the thirty seconds that she'd held it straight out in front of her as she stared at his amazing hazel eyes. "I mean to the dance?"

"Uh, no. I'm not sure I'm even going." Sam said, taking in her embarrassment and feeling the red creep up his own neck to stain his cheeks.

"Oh, well if you change your mind, I'd like to go with you." She said. Rachel stood quickly on her toes and kissed Sam's cheek, barely catching his lower jawbone because he was a good six inches taller than her. She turned and walked away and Sam smiled, watching the short plaid skirt go the other direction.

"You sure know how to pick 'em Sammy." Sam jumped, his face blazing red as he heard Dean's voice near and slightly behind him.

"Jeez, Dean, you scared the crap outta me!"

"Head's in the clouds, Sammy. What was that about?" Dean asked, turning to face his little brother and jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

"She was wondering if I was going to the Winter Formal."

"And?"

"I don't know. C'mon, I have a midterm to write." Sam cut the conversation short and headed for the Impala. He opened the door with a squeak and climbed in. Dean grinned and turned to see the short plaid skirt rounding a corner. "Nice." He ran to the car and got in behind the wheel. Firing the engine he pulled out onto the road and turned the corner where he'd seen the girl walking. She was just ahead and Dean couldn't resist slowing the big car to a crawl. "Oh, come on Dean." Sam groaned and rolled his eyes. "She's too young for you."

"Yeah, well not for you Sammy boy." Dean crowed. He watched as she turned to look at the rumbling car. She blushed and waved at Sam. Sam turned beet red and returned the wave sheepishly. "Sam-my's got a girl-friend!" Dean said in a sing-song voice and hit the gas, spinning rubber on the pavement as the Impala responded. They were pulling into the driveway of the rented house some ten minutes later and Dean was still teasing Sam unmercifully. Sam got out of the car and huffed, moving into the house and past his dad at a fast clip. He went into his bedroom and shut the door with a bang.

"What the hell was that all about?" John asked; eyeing the closed door to his youngest's bedroom.

"Aw, spoilsport there can't take a little ribbing." Dean muttered, going to the fridge and pulling out a Pepsi.

Sam opened his history book and moved to his bed. As he sat down a scrap of paper fluttered out and landed gently on the rug in front of the twin bed. He reached down and picked it up, knowing it wasn't there before. It was pale blue and folded in half. He opened it and inside were the words, _'If you change your mind 455-3926. Rach.'_

Sam smiled and gave it some thought. _The dance is Friday night. I can rent a tux in town and get her some flowers at the gift shop because I have that money saved. Dean seemed okay with it, I wonder if he'll let me use the Impala?_ "Oh, who the hell am I kidding?" Sam shook his head and opened up his history book, going to the needed chapters for his midterm paper. Twenty minutes later Sam found himself staring at that little blue scrap of paper, his book still on the first page and his writing tablet still empty.

He pulled his cell phone out of his bag and dialed the number on the paper, swallowing his nervousness.

"Hello? Anderson residence."

"Mrs. Anderson. This is Sam Winchester. I go to school with Rachel. Is she in?"

"Yes, hang on a second." He heard muffled taking in the background and then the crackle of the phone being placed on hold. Another click sounded.

"Sam?"

"Hey, Rachel."

"Hi."

"Hey, are you still interested in going to the formal?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I think I'm going. Was uh… was wondering if you'd want to uh… go with me?"

She giggled. "I'd love to."

"Great. Uh, I'll make some plans and talk to you in school tomorrow."

"Okay, Sam."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye." Sam quickly flipped his cell phone shut and dropped it to his bed, a smile forming on his features. "Oh crap. Tomorrow's Thursday." He bolted from his bed and ran into the living room to find Dean sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, flipping through TV channels. "Hey Dean? Can I borrow the Impala Friday night?"

"What? Why?" Dean asked, not stopping his channel surfing. "You got a date or something?"

"Actually… yeah."

Dean turned to face his happily fidgeting baby brother and his jaw dropped. "Seriously?! The hot plaid girl?"

"Rachel. Her name's Rachel. And yes. Her. The Winter Formal actually."

"Wow. Geek boy's goin' to a dance with a girl. Clear it with Dad yet?"

"No, but I'm goin' anyway. Now can I borrow the car Friday or not?"

"Why do you want the car Friday, Sam?" John asked, coming into the room.

"I'm going to the winter formal. I'm taking Rachel Anderson from school."

"Were you gonna clear this with me Sam?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest."

"Dad, it's a school dance. I'm not movin' out."

"No, we all are."

Sam swallowed hard. "What?" He asked quietly.

"Tomorrow's your last day of school. I pulled you this morning. There's a hunt in Washington State and we're moving closer to Bobby. He's had a hit on the thing that killed your mother."

"And when were you gonna tell me about this Dad?" Sam said, his hands clenching at his sides into tight fists that shook slightly.

"Since when do I have to clear things with you?" John said, his voice rising just slightly. Dean sat on the couch and looked worriedly between Sam and his dad. _Not again. Dad, you ass. Why?_

"Whatever happened to _anything I wanted to do _Dad? Huh? I haven't been able to finish school in one place in two years. This is my freakin' junior year Dad!"

"Do not take that tone, young man!"

"Why the hell shouldn't I? You're doin' a bang up job of making me miserable! Again!" Sam turned to walk away. John spun him and grabbed him by the arms.

"Do not turn your back on me! We're not done here." Dean stood and pushed through to stand between his father and Sam. Sam pulled out of his dad's grasp and stood, chest heaving and pissed, glaring at his dad.

"Yes you are. Cool it! Both of you!" Dean said darkly, glaring at first his father and then his rebellious little brother. Dean turned his attention back to his father. "What's in Washington State?"

"Something is killing cavers that are trying to map out uncharted caves in the area around Everett and Leavenworth. The spelunkers are going in and researching a system of connected caves in that area and something is making them disappear. Another team with rescue techs goes in and all they find is bones. The equipment is trashed and everyone is dead. They're calling it animal attacks. Looks like a Wendigo."

"Can we handle it and then come back here?" Dean asked John, pointing between himself and his father and excluding Sam, who stood glaring at his father's back.

"No! We're moving closer to Bobby. He has a lead on whatever killed your mom and…"

Sam interrupted. "If it's so concrete a lead, how come you don't know what the hell it is?!"

"Samuel Winchester…"

"NO! It doesn't matter what killed mom and whether or not we kill it. She's gone and she's not coming back! Why do we have to put our lives on hold for your obsess…ungh!" Sam's head whipped to the side as John's fist flew, clipping the lower jaw of the seventeen year old boy that stood nearly an inch taller than him. Sam's hand shot up to his mouth and wiped the blood from his lower lip. He glared, tears still building no matter how hard he fought.

"Dad!" Dean cried, turning to glare at the man. Sam took off out the front door, his hand still on his mouth. "If I ever see you do that to him again…" Dean turned away from his dad and followed his brother out the door.

John stepped after Dean and then stopped. "Dean, tell him I'm…" The rest of the words were cut off by the slamming of the screen door.

He found Sam leaning against the tree in the side yard. Dean walked up to Sam in time to see him spit out a mouth full of blood. He grimaced. "Sammy, let me see." Dean reached for Sam's jaw. Sam shied away.

"Back off Dean." Sam turned away and looked across the street, trying to keep the tears that had surfaced at bay. His jaw was throbbing and the copper taste in his mouth was making him nauseous.

"Damn it Sammy. Let me see." Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders and stopped him from flinching away again. Dean raised his brother's jaw with a gentle bent forefinger. He ghosted a hand over the swelling near Sam's lower lip and then gently as possible he turned down Sam's lip, seeing the cut inflicted by his bottom teeth. "You're gonna bruise. Let's go get you some ice."

"I'm not goin' back in there."

"Sammy…"

"No Dean. Not yet." Tears shone in his hazel eyes, making them appear bright with pain. His words were slightly slurred because of the burn in his jaw.

"Okay. I'll be right back alright? Just stay here. Okay Sam?" Dean watched his brother for signs that he was about to take off. He didn't move. "Sam?"

"Okay." He muttered, turning away to lean against the tree, staring across the street. His shoulders slumped and he put an arm up to the straight, rough barked trunk, curling his arm over the back of his neck and resting his cheek against the back of his forearm. The sting in his mouth turned to a burning fury that seeped through his body.

Dean went back into the house and set about getting the things he needed to help Sam. He pulled a gel cold pack out of the freezer and worked it in his strong hands, making it soft to go against Sam's jaw. Next he laid it down and moved to the sink, filling a small glass with warm water. He stopped at the table and grabbed the salt shaker. Taking the top off he dumped a generous amount of table salt into the water, swirling the glass to dissolve the white crystals that gathered in the bottom of the glass. Dean looked up to find John come slowly into the room, taking in what Dean was doing with a horrified look on his face.

"Dean…"

Dean turned and glared at his father, putting the stuff down on the table as fury radiated through him. "Don't. Just…not to me. You wanna apologize you do it yourself. To him." Dean picked up the cold pack and the glass and banged back through the screen door, going out into the unseasonably warm December evening. He stopped when he saw his brother clad in the long sleeved brown shirt he'd worn to school, so still he almost blended into the tree he leaned against. Dean started walking again, wondering how he was going to fix things this time. "Here, Sammy. Rinse your mouth." Dean said as he handed his brother the cup of warm salt water.

"Thanks Dean." Sam said quietly, moving slightly away from the tree. Sam took a mouth full of water and held it for a bit, letting the burn start. Then he spit the pink water and rinsed again. He turned and stepped back to the tree to slide down the bark and sit in the grass at the base. Dean followed him down, touching shoulders with his brother. Dean turned and raised the ice pack to Sam's jaw. Sam grimaced at the contact the cold gel had with his throbbing face and took over control to hold it gently.

"Man, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Dad."

"Don't you apologize for him Dean. If he told you to you just don't. You didn't do this and I'm not accepting his apology for it if it comes from you."

"That's what I told him. I'm apologizing for me. I should have seen this coming. He's been researching again. We've been here since school started in August and I know he's gettin' restless, man. Then Bobby called with that hit…"

"Does Bobby know what killed mom?" Sam asked.

"Not for sure, no."

"Why Washington State? That's not the thing that killed her so why do we have to go after it?"

"It's killin' people Sammy." Dean stood and stepped back once. Sam looked up at him, hunched against the tree with the gel pack against his face.

"I get that. I'll tell Rachel that I can't go to the dance after all. I'm not talking to him though. Not unless he comes to apologize. I know I was out of line…"

"Hey, man." Dean said as he pulled Sam to his feet and put one hand on each shoulder. He turned Sam's head and pulled the ice away to look at the already darkening mark on his angular lower jaw bone. "Not enough to deserve to be clocked for it. No one deserves to be hit for just smartin' off. C'mon, let's go back inside. It's gettin' dark and chilly."

Sam and Dean went inside, Dean staying between John, who now sat at the kitchen table engrossed in research, and Sam who quickly made the escape into his bedroom. Dean walked by the door to hear Sam talking on his cell phone. He went into his own bedroom just down the hall. Closing the door he leaned against it; his heart going out to Sam even as he remembered the promise he'd made all those years ago about giving Sam the freedom to do what he wanted to do. His dad had made that same promise and had stuck to it for the several weeks that they has spent at Pastor Jim's and the all seemed forgotten as Sammy had gotten stronger and older. Now their father was back to square one, driving a wedge between himself and Sam and making Dean choose once again between the two. Dean slid down the door to sit on his floor, sad that that was a choice he couldn't make and knowing Sammy would again suffer for it. He pulled his faded denim clad knees up and buried his head against them, laying his forearm over the back of his neck as the house grew quiet around him. He heard his brother's muffled voice coming through the thin wall.

"Hey Rachel, it's Sam again."

"Sam? What's wrong? You sound…off."

"Uh, I really hate to do this Rachel but I just found out that I'm not gonna be able to go to the formal." Sam sighed and sat back down on his bed from where he had been pacing.

"What? Why Sam?"

"Tomorrow… uh, tomorrow's my last day of school. My family is moving. Friday. I have a lot of packing to do." Sam choked out the lie, looking around his bedroom at his belongings, which would easily fit into his duffle bag and the backpack he used for school.

"You're moving? No! Why?"

"Um, my dad got a different job and he has to start right away. So anyway, I'll see you tomorrow at school, y'know to say goodbye."

"Oh. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Sam shut his phone without saying those words again. He tossed it onto his nightstand and flopped face first on the bed. His fury died and he buried his face in the pillow, reaching both hands up underneath. Sam raised his head sometime later to find it totally dark outside. He salted his window, changed into his sweats and t-shirt that he wore to bed and moved to the wall that separated him from his brother. He knocked softly, two raps, with his knuckles. Two answering raps sounded through the thin drywall. "G'night, Dean." Sam called, leaning his forehead against the faded wallpaper.

"Night, Sammy." Came Dean's muffled voice from the other side.

**A/N: Well, here's the first chapter and no one died! No cliffie this time either! I'm going to have to see what I can do about that! Catch you tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's the chapter I promised today. More angst and a little more action as the guys start out for the hunt in Washington. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks for all the great reviews and fave/story alerts. I'm hoping to hear from you all again. Those of you who are silent readers, you are appreciated! Maybe you'll drop me a line sometime.**

**Chapter 2**

Sam's alarm went off at seven o'clock. He jumped awake instantly and felt like he hadn't slept at all. He climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom, taking his school clothes with him. After his shower he came out to the kitchen and found Dean sitting at the table, sipping black coffee and looking like he hadn't slept either. He was wearing his black jeans and his blue short sleeved work shirt. The patch on the front read _Jake's Garage._

"Hey Sammy."

"Hey Dean."

"You sleep?" Dean asked, looking his brother over.

"I think so. Doesn't feel like it though." Sam said, pulling a chocolate chip granola bar out of the torn box on the counter and grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge. He unwrapped the sticky bar and bit into it, taking a swig of the milk while he chewed. He soon had his breakfast done and finished off the carton of milk as he leaned against the kitchen sink. He had to work to conceal the pain in his badly bruised jaw while he ate. "What about you?"

"Pretty much the same. I called Jake this morning and let him know that today was my last day. He said he's not gonna pay me unless I get that '67 half year Camaro done. I have about three days of work to get done today. That's three grand for restoring that car. We really need that money. I have to get to work. I can't pick you up from school."

"It's okay Dean. I can walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Get goin'."

Dean stood from the table and looked at his brother, turning his head to look at the black bruise that marred his jaw bone. "Damn Dad." Dean muttered, dropping his hand and heading for the front door. "Be careful Sammy."

"I will." Dean left.

Sam shrugged into his backpack and was headed out the door to walk to school when he came face to face with his Dad. John's eyes fell on the bruise on his cheek. "Sammy…"

"Save it. And it's Sam." Sam brushed past his father and walked down the drive to the road, heading briskly in the direction of the school. He made it to just outside the doors when he heard the first bell ring. His long legs carried him inside the school for his last day. Sitting through classes was a chore as the teachers kept drawing everyone's attention to him by announcing it was his last day as a student there. Sam ducked his head as he heard the teachers repeatedly call his name. His chin length hair gratefully fell into his eyes and obscured the bruise along his jaw line. He made it through the day, receiving pats on the back from people who were sad to see him go, and snide remarks from the jocks that took it upon themselves to make everyone else miserable. The only person who said nothing was the jock, Mark, that walked by Sam head lowered and cradling his bruised ribs with an arm.

"Sam wait!" Rachel called out, running up from behind, as he turned at the sound of her voice. He watched her long black hair flutter as she moved at a fast pace until she caught up to him. She stopped beside him and they fell into step to go to their last class, which they had together. She put her hand on his forearm, which was wrapped around his only remaining book. "I'm sorry to hear that you're moving. I'm going to miss you." She turned and stopped, stopping him with her. He looked down at her and took in her olive complexion. Her eyes turned into round green saucers. "Oh my god, what happened Sam?" She asked, reaching up to tenderly cup the cheek that bore the bruise. She carefully avoided the sore spot.

"Oh, I got mad when I found out what was goin' on. I got clumsy and slammed my bedroom door. The latch broke and it bounced open and clocked me." Sam pulled back some. "I'm going to miss you too." She smiled and dropped her hand, lacing her fingers with his empty hand, stepping around him to walk on his other side.

"Come on. Let's get to class." She said, smiling up at him.

History class went uneventfully and the dismissal bell rang. He turned in his book, and got a surprise hug from the matronly teacher. He walked out of the school empty handed save for Rachel's warm fingers twined with his. Outside the school she stopped him again. "Do you need help packing? I'm free tonight."

"No thanks. I couldn't sleep last night so I got a good start." He responded, the lie forming easily even as he thought _Oh, God. I'm turning into Dad._

"Oh, okay." Rachel said, sounding disappointed. "Look, keep in touch with me okay? Maybe you can come back someday, y'know, to see me." Sam leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll do that. Take care of yourself Rachel." Rachel turned quickly back to face him and threw her arms around his neck, stretching to touch her lips to his. He caught her around the waist and returned the kiss. She pulled back a few seconds later and looked at him, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"You too." She said and dropped out of his arms, quickly walking the other way, turning the bend in the road to walk to her own house. His sharp hearing caught her sob as she disappeared from his sight. Sam watched, wanting nothing more than to run after her and beg her to forget about him, and then he lowered his eyes to the pavement and sighed. He made the walk home last a lot longer than it should have. Opening the door of the house he walked inside to be greeted by packed duffle bags and random other stuff that was ready to be piled into their vehicles for the trek to Washington State. John glared at his youngest.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"I _had_ a couple friends that I wanted to say goodbye to." Sam muttered quietly, refusing to look at his father as his jaw throbbed with remembered pain.

"Sam. I'm sorry. I know this whole thing has been hard, but if Bobby has a lead on the thing that killed your mom then we have to follow through with it."

"But why the hunt in Washington?"

"Sam, there's something in that cave that's killing people. We have to stop it. And we're going to. Now pack up your stuff. Dean should be home in a couple hours. We wait for him to finish and then we leave. I want to make it to Kentucky tonight. Then we sleep and drive the rest of the way tomorrow."

"Fine." Sam skirted his father, keeping his back to the man just as Dean came through the door looking exhausted and covered in grease. The only clean part of him was his hands. Dean pried open his eyes and took in the tense scene before him.

"What the hell…?" Dean first looked at his father then shifted his eyes to his little brother as John dropped his gaze from the hard green eyes of his oldest. Sam had stopped on his flight to his room when he heard Dean enter the house. He turned back to meet his brother's eyes. Sam tipped his head in the direction of his bedroom. Dean gave an imperceptible nod and Sam turned and disappeared down the short hall.

John fidgeted and resumed packing some small things that lay on the couch. "Dean, did you get the half year Camaro finished?"

"Yeah. Nearly killed myself, but yeah. Three grand in pocket. That can get us to Washington and a lot further. I'm beat."

"Well, pack up. I wanna hit the road tonight and make it to Kentucky. We can drive the rest of the way tomorrow. It's a weekend so the research teams won't be in the caves. Hopefully we can get in there and kill this thing."

"Dad, Kentucky is seven hours away. I don't wanna drive that far after putting in a fourteen hour day."

"Sam can drive."

"Whatever."

"Don't take that tone."

Dean stared hard at his father, memory of a swinging fist connecting with his Sammy's face making him not like what he saw. "Fine." Dean hissed and walked away, leaving John to stare after him wondering when he'd begun to lose his boys again. He shrugged off the morose feeling and went back to cleaning the house of any traces of their odd lifestyle. He swept all salt traces away and packed up the cat's eye shells and other protection wards.

Dean walked down the hallway and stopped outside Sam's door. He knocked eight short soft raps. Their knock to let each other know it was one of them, and opened the door. "Hey Sammy."

"Hey Dean." Sam was bounding about the room, tossing his few possessions onto the bed in a messy pile. Clothes and a few books, along with weapons and a few other things. Next a duffle bag came sailing from the small closet to land on the floor beside the bed. He came back to the bed and began stuffing rolled up clothes and books haphazardly into the bag.

"Sammy." Dean said, looking at his brother's stiffly held shoulders. Sam didn't stop his flurry of activity. Dean rushed forward and grabbed his brother by those shoulders. "Sam stop, Damnit." Sam stilled and turned to face Dean, raising his hazel eyes that rapidly gained an unwelcome shine. He blinked furiously and stared at his brother as Dean raised his hands again to plant them firmly on his shoulders. Dean stepped forward, pushing Sam back until his thighs connected with the mattress. Dean shoved the mess aside and cleared a spot for them to sit. "Sit down." He barked.

Sam dropped to the bed and Dean sat beside him, bumping shoulders with his little brother. Sam leaned into the contact so Dean didn't pull away. "What happened today?"

"I told Rachel last night that we were moving. That I couldn't take her to the dance."

"She get upset?"

"Not really. We never see each other until the bell for last class. History. She saw this." Sam said, pointing to his jaw. "I lied to her about it, how it happened. All this time, everything that he's done to me, to us, and I still lie to protect him. I lie about what he does, what we do. I don't know why."

"Because he's our dad. I do it too. What else happened with the girl?"

"Rach. After last class she walked out with me. Held my hand and asked if I needed help packing. I told her no and then she kissed me."

"Alright, Sammy!" Dean grinned. Sam scowled darkly at him, and then rolled his eyes.

"That's just it. I like her…a lot. I wanted to take her to the dance and finish the year here so I could see if it, y'know, worked out. Anyhow, she told me to take care, keep in touch and that she'd miss me. Then she ran away crying. I came home and you pretty much know the rest.

"So it's another case of yadda, yadda, yadda, Dad's an ass."

"Yeah."

"I pretty much gathered that. I'm gonna take a shower and pack. You're ridin' shotgun with me so I stay awake. He wants to leave tonight."

"He told me."

"Bring ear plugs. Kentucky is gonna hear us comin'. Do me a favor?"

"Yeah Dean."

"Avoid dad until we leave."

"No problem there." Sam said as Dean stood to leave the room. Sam smiled wanly at Dean and resumed packing his meager belongings, this time calmer and with more care. He heard Dean enter his bedroom and then he heard the bathroom door shut as he finished packing.

They hit the road an hour later, Zeppelin blaring from the speakers. Sam felt better, being back in the big black car that had become more of a home to him than anywhere else in his seventeen years. Dean tailed his dad over seemingly endless roads for about three hours, progressively turning up the music and lowering the window as he drove. "Dean you're beat. Let me drive before you wreck her."

"Probably a good idea." Dean flashed the headlights at his dad's big black GMC and they pulled off at the next wide spot in the road. Dean slid over the bench while Sam got out and went around the back of the car to get in the driver's seat. "Be careful with my baby. I hear anything that sounds like metal to metal-or anything else- and I'm gonna kick your ass." With that Dean leaned his head against his arm on the door panel and was softly snoring in minutes. Sam turned down the music to a tolerable level and flashed the lights again. His father pulled back onto the open road and Sam followed, resisting the temptation to spin the car around and floor the gas in the opposite direction. He was getting a bad feeling about this hunt.

**A/N: There's the second chapter. Still a little slow but hopefully a good lead in for what's to come. Those of you who wanted Winchester Whumpage will get it in spades over the next few chapters. Thanks for reading and please hit that little button. See it, it's right down there. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: As promised here's another chapter. This one is the set up for the hunt, revealing information and ramping up some nervous angst. Hope you all enjoy! Also thanks to everyone who's reviewed and added this one to their faves in one form or another!**

**Any mistakes in place names or travel time are all mine due to minimum research done. I was saving the endless net surfing for vague facts for when I really needed it over the next couple chapters. Enjoy chapter 3! **

**Chapter 3**

"Welcome to Kentucky." Sam read aloud, relieved to see that sign. The moon was touching the horizon on its downward course and Sam was beat. Dean stirred on the seat next to him and opened his eyes.

"You say somethin'?"

"We're in Kentucky."

"Good. Maybe we'll get real beds for a couple hours and then some chow." Dean looked back out the windshield to see his dad's signal blink on. He was pulling into a rundown motel. He got out and Sam and Dean followed suit, staying by the car to stretch their legs. John returned a few minutes later with keys to a room. He walked up to his boys.

"Here boys. Get a few hours sleep and then we'll eat and hit the road again." He handed them one room key and kept one for himself. They got some of their gear and headed for the room, both pulling off their shoes and flopping onto their backs on the bed. Sam and Dean were soon asleep while John sat at the small table in the room and opened up the folder that held his research. He turned on the 9 a.m. news and kept the volume muted to let his boys rest. He had been looking over his papers quietly when he glanced up as one of his boys moved. It was Sammy. He turned his head and lifted a knee, keeping it slightly bent as he remained asleep. Dean moved then, turning to face his brother just a couple feet away from him, and John knew he was subconsciously comforting his restless brother. John cast a quick glance at the TV to see the screen light up reading _Breaking News _and then the picture changed from that to a picture taken outside of a cave. The tag at the bottom of the screen read _Everett, Washington. _"Damnit." John cursed and turned up the volume as the television showed two paramedics bringing a stretcher out of the cave with a long black body bag strapped down to it. He listened to the report.

"Workers for a research team mapping out this previously unexplored cave system outside Everett, Washington have met with tragedy. This is the second team in two weeks to go into this cave system and come out with grievous injuries and several deaths among them. This team of workers, long time friends, suffered the worst of the two groups. Three dead and only one survivor. The man is listed in critical condition and police are not releasing his identity until his family can be reached. We have learned though that the man's brother was among the casualties. We have also learned that the man had spoken briefly to a co-worker who had remained topside to monitor the crew that went inside, before losing consciousness. It is rumored that the underground crew – quote- ran into something that ripped them to shreds-end quote. This is Gillian Reid with Channel Nineteen news and we'll be updating this story regularly as it develops."

John bolted up from his chair and moved to the beds, jarring each of his boys awake. He smacked Dean on the shin and tapped Sam's knee and both boys startled awake and sat up. "C'mon. We have to go. Now. There's been another research group attacked at that damn cave." Dean sat up, stifling a groan and pulled on his boots as John rapidly crammed all his papers in the folder and headed out the door to his truck. He fired the vehicles, trying to clear the frost from the windshields and raging when it seemed to take forever.

"Dad, Washington is still thirty six hours away, even if we get lucky and there's no construction and traffic. We can't get there in time to do anything about this crew. Hopefully with two groups getting killed the idiots will give up. We can't drive the whole way non-stop either. I won't do it." Sam came out of the motel room with his and Dean's duffels.

"Did you even sleep?" Sam asked his dad point blank.

"What's that got to do with anything?" John growled.

"Because I'm not going to follow you blind into this if you're not thinking and too tired to keep us alive! It has everything to do with it! I'm not gonna let you get Dean killed because you can't realize that this need to kill every freakin' evil thing out there is takin' over your life! Dad, you told me once that you'd back off. That you'd realized you needed to be our dad and not our Drill Sergeant. What the hell happened to that?"

Sam watched John seem to deflate as his words struck home. "Alright. We'll get something to eat on the road and drive 'til dark. Then we'll stop and get a couple rooms, sleep tonight and make it to Bobby's from there. If he goes with us, this hunt will go smoother and we'll finish the job and settle down for a bit. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes sir." Both answered automatically. Sam and Dean got in the Impala and waited for their dad to pull out in his big black truck. Two rumbling engines greeted the crisp December air and took off towards South Dakota and Bobby Singer.

_South Dakota- twenty eight hours later._

Two familiar sounding engines rumbled their way down the gravel drive to the salvage yard that belonged to John's mentor and best friend. John pulled his truck into the yard and Dean pulled the Impala in beside it. He turned to Sam, who was sleeping in the front seat.

"Rise and shine, princess." Dean chided, shaking Sam's shoulder gently. Sam groaned and forced himself upright on the seat, working kinks out of his neck.

He looked out the windshield, taking in the snow that covered the ground and still fell. "We're here already?"

"What do you mean already? You've slept for the last three hundred miles Sammy."

"Huh." Sam said. "There's Bobby." Sam got out of the car and walked up to the older hunter, giving him a tight hug and breathing in the oddly comforting scent of oil and old books. Dean watched his brother embrace the hunter.

"What the hell is goin' on in that freaky head of yours huh?" He muttered before getting out of the car and walking up to repeat Sam's gesture with his old friend. "Hey Bobby." Dean said as the old man pulled him into a crushing embrace. He pulled back and looked at the man he used to call Uncle Bobby. Bobby had a flannel shirt on underneath a grease stained insulated vest. His ball cap was pulled down low over his bearded face. His light brown hair was beginning to show threads of gray. Bobby's brown eyes were alight with happiness at seeing two boys he thought of as family and their father. Even though he sometimes felt like pumping John full of buckshot he knew the man tried his best. He watched in silence as John came up to them and both boys quieted instantly, the happy looks on their faces fading. _John, what the hell have you done now?_ Bobby looked from John to Dean and then to Sam and back. He did a double take and looked at Sam again, noticing the dark bruise on Sam's jaw. _Aw, damnit John. You didn't._

"Boys, your room's ready, ya know that. Why don'cha crash for a few hours? I know ya drove most of the time to get here so quick. I'll wake you for supper."

"Thanks Bobby." Sam and Dean said in near unison, walking into the old house Bobby called home. John went to the car and his truck to get their bags. Bobby followed to help and to find out just what the hell was going on with his friend and the boys he loved.

"John." Bobby said, stopping the man as he slung his duffel up on his shoulder and then moved to the car to get his boys' bags. Bobby stepped in front of the ex-Marine and stood his ground. "John, just what the holy hell is goin' on with you and those two? How did Sam git that bruise?" John had been glaring at his friend, wanting nothing more than to not be pressed on the issues he had with his sons at the moment, but when Bobby mentioned the bruising John's eyes dropped and his knuckles whitened around the straps of the bags he held. "You hit him?!" Bobby asked incredulously.

"I know Bobby. I was stupid. We were fighting again and he smarted off and I just lost it. Now I feel like I'm losin' them both… again." John ducked his head and Bobby's previous anger faded a tiny amount, more like wanting to shoot him with rock salt than buckshot.

"Look, let's go inside. I've got coffee on and we can talk."

Sam dropped onto the twin sized bed furthest from the door. His usual bed. He propped his elbows on his thighs and watched as his big brother fell onto the bed beside him. Dean bent to untie his boot laces and toed them off, not bothering to right them when they hit the floor. He flopped onto his back and sighed wearily. He turned his head and caught his little brother watching him. "What's goin' on in that freaky head of yours huh?" He asked, sincerely wanting to be able to say something to make his brother relax and forget the recent hurts.

Sam dropped his eyes to the faded, but clean, carpet. "Do you think we'll ever have a normal life Dean?"

"I'd like so much to say yes Sammy, but y'know there's always gonna be somethin' to kill."

"Yeah." Sam said, flopping back onto his back on the twin size bed and turning away from Dean. He watched as Sam's breath hitched repeatedly and then finally settled. Dean's heart broke as he watched his baby brother cry himself to sleep.

John poured his feelings out to his mentor and old friend, finally falling silent and downing his half cold coffee. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and stared hard at his clenched fists, forcing them to flatten out against the worn table top.

"John, eat and get some sleep. We can't do anything tonight. We'll leave in the mornin' for Washington. Go sit your ass down in the livin' room. I'll come getcha when supper's on."

"Thanks dude." John said, getting up from the table and walking slowly into the living room like he was dragging the weight of the world on a short rope behind him.

Bobby worked at making a thick beef stew and pulled a loaf of bread from the pantry. He sat everything on the table and pulled three beers and a bottle of Pepsi from the fridge, putting them down at each of the chairs. He went into the living room and found John slumped on the couch, his head bent at an odd angle as he slept. He woke John and made him go into the kitchen while Bobby himself went to wake the boys. Bobby couldn't help but notice that Sam's eyes were red, his cheeks splotchy. Dean's green orbs remained downcast and haunted the brief times he looked up._ What the hell is goin' on with these boys?_ After a silent, slightly tense dinner the boys went back to sleep.

_South Dakota, the next morning. _

"Damnit!" John swore. Bobby rushed into the living room when he heard his friend's outburst.

"What the hell?"

"Sunday morning. It's Sunday morning and another team of researchers is goin' in that damn cave!" John said; pointing to Bobby's laptop, which he'd had been utilizing for research. "They're taking a professional game hunter in with them this time."

"They're gonna get ripped apart. What are we thinking? Wendigo?"

"I don't think so. I hacked into the coroner's office that is dealing with the crews' bodies. I think it's smaller than a Wendigo. I'm gonna wake the boys, we need to get to Washington, now!"

**A/N: Hoped you all liked it and don't forget to let me know! See you tomorrow with chapter 4.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking by me on this one. I've seen lots of returning names and familiar people and also lots of new readers. It's really humbling and I'm grateful. This chapter is a little shorter than the others, it's the start of the hunt. Angst and action begin next chapter. I'll update tomorrow. Enjoy!**

**A/N2: Anything that seems off about the other people or any coming rescue efforts are because I didn't do any research, I'm up to my ears in it now for the rest of the fic!**

**Chapter 4**

_Everett, Washington twenty-two hours later._

Sam pulled into another ratty motel room, the Impala coming to a rumbling stop behind Bobby's blue Ford and John's big black GMC. He hated the furious pace that his dad had set, but bit his tongue on the long drive and allowed his brother to sleep for a few hours after Dean had driven for the first ten with only stops for food and gas. He killed the engine and Dean startled awake at the sudden lack of sound. "We here?" he asked.

"Yep. Everett Washington. The attacks occurred at a system of caves about twenty minutes from here. Pretty brutal according to Bobby. Dad hasn't said anything about them but Bobby thinks it's something like the Squaw Peak, Arizona thing. Only this one's a little more than just a scare for people who go into the cave."

"Wasn't The Squaw Peak thing rumored to be a corpse that came back to life and guarded the entrance of the cave so the white men who killed the Indians hiding there would be afraid to come back?"

"Yeah, it was said white men on the warpath killed a tribe that had taken refuge in that cave that the corpse rose and took a seat on a ledge at the entrance and scared off anyone who tried to explore the cave. To keep the spelunkers from robbing and desecrating the bodies of the Indians that are still there. Apparently it was pretty gruesome. The descendants of those Indians who survived searched the cave and found all the remains, giving them proper burials and no one has seen the corpse to date."

"So dad thinks this could be something like that and it doesn't like the spelunkers explorin' the cave system?"

"That's what Bobby says. I can't get jack outta dad, and I'm done tryin'."

Bobby knocked on the driver's side window and Sam rolled it down, the cold December air hitting him and making him shiver. "Here's a key to one of the rooms. You and Dean take it and get some shut eye. Your dad wants to find out when the research team is goin' back in and I'm goin' along to keep his ass outta deep crap."

"You'll call us when you get something so we can meet you before you take this thing?" Dean asked, leaning over to look at his old friend as he asked the question.

"I'll call. I'll keep your idjit dad outta trouble too. Get some sleep."

"Be careful Bobby." Sam said quietly. Dean and Sam got out of the Impala and gathered their bags, using the key Bobby gave them to unlock the door to room eighteen. They went in and Dean dropped his duffle at the foot of the bed, kicked off his boots again, and flopped onto the bed. Sam looked at his big brother and dropped his own bag on the bed. "I'm gonna take a shower." He told Dean, reaching into the green canvas duffle and removing some clean jeans, a t-shirt, hoodie, boxers and socks. He kicked off his shoes and padded in his sock feet across the threadbare motel carpet to the small bathroom situated in the corner of the room. He flicked on the light and looked at his tired visage in the mirror. Stripping off his flannel and t-shirt he looked back at himself from the mirror and took in the nearly faded scars from the last time his father forced him into a hunt like this. The eight claw marks that marred his lean but muscular torso just below his ribs and on his lower abs. The lower ones were more pronounced yet because of the infection that had festered there and allowed worse scars to form. He traced the scars, following the now familiar lines and a bad feeling about this hunt wedged itself into the pit of his stomach, like he'd swallowed a brick. He slipped out of his jeans and socks. Dropping his boxers and moving over to the shower he turned on the hot water and hoped it would wash away the chill that had nothing to do with the December weather.

He climbed out of the shower when the water started to cool. Dressing in the clothes he'd brought in, he went out to find Dean already asleep with a hand tucked up under his pillow. Sam knew Dean's fingers were curled loosely around the hilt of his favorite hunting knife. He also knew that although Dean appeared sound asleep, the slightest out of place noise would have him fully alert before the noise stopped. Sam lay down on his bed and hoped for sleep to come. He finally succumbed in the early hours of the morning, worry about the pending hunt keeping real rest at bay.

At two p.m. Dean was woken by a shuffling noise outside their motel room followed closely by the grating sound of metal against metal before the door opened and his father and Bobby came in. "Dad, what's goin' on?" Dean asked, sitting up as he took in his father's angry features. Sam sat up too, woken by the same noises and then Dean's voice. "That damn thing killed every member of the third research team. The game hunter they took in was the first to go, literally ripped to pieces. That's thirteen people in two weeks. This thing has got to be stopped. NOW! Get dressed, both of you. Warm. We're going after that thing, today."

"Yes sir." Sam and Dean said in unison, both getting up from the bed and dressing in several layers. Dean added a long sleeved cotton shirt over his t-shirt, both black, and put his flannel on that he'd worn on the drive. He slid out of his jeans and put on thermal bottoms before shimmying back into the tighter denim. Then he put on two pairs of clean socks and laced his boots tightly. Sam echoed the motions, putting on thermal bottoms before pulling his jeans back on, two pairs of socks and the hiking boots he'd brought along. They got into heavy coats and tucked gloves and knit hats into pockets. Going outside Dean rummaged through the trunk of the Impala, pulling out a knife in a sheath which he strapped to his wrist. He also pulled his Colt and a couple clips along with Sam's .45, spare ammo, and hunting knife. Dean fired his dad's truck, but left the Impala quiet, knowing she would be going nowhere given the six inches of new snow he brushed off his dad's black truck. Bobby came out, dressed warmer than normal also and then headed to his truck, firing its rumbling engine; he brushed the accumulation off it too. Sam came out and walked to where Dean stood at the front of John's truck. He stopped next to his big brother and leaned against the fender, his shoulder bumping with Dean's.

"You okay Sammy?"

"Yeah." Sam stood straight as John came out of the room, bundled in the same heavy clothes the rest of them wore.

"Load up." he barked. Sam and Dean headed for the truck and John came over and climbed into the driver's seat. He shifted the rumbling truck into gear and pulled out, kicking up snow with the spinning tires. It took them thirty five minutes to reach the trail that led to the cave, the cavers' vehicles and rescue services parked at the head of the trail that led to the yawning maw that gaped at them from the side of the mountain. Rescue services had some ATV's with rigs and lights shining into the mouth of the cave. The four hunters watched the scene unfold, just in time to see two rescue workers run from the mouth of the cave. One began shouting while the other hit his knees and retched, his lunch steaming in the cold snow.

"Dean, glove box." John barked. Dean reached in and pulled out a cigar box that housed his father's fake ID's. John rummaged through and pulled out one reading _John Waits, Washington Department of Fish and Game_. "Stay here." He told the boys and got out of his truck. Bobby followed suit and let John flash the ID and do the talking.

"What's goin' on fellas?" John asked when everyone bought into his identity and the two men settled down some.

"It's awful. We went in to recover the last bodies, the hunter and Renee Wilson, the lead on this crew. They are…" the man who'd thrown up gagged again, "ripped to pieces. I mean we can't tell what part belongs to which person. I'm not goin' back in there." The man stood on shaky legs and glared at the leader of the rescue team as he spoke.

"We have to get those bodies outta there."

"I am not going back in there." The shaky man said, carefully enunciating every word.

"I'm not giving you a choice. Those people had families that want them recovered."

"You are giving me a choice. I quit." The man shrieked, throwing his hard hat to the snowy ground with a soft _thwack._

"Look, Officer…"

"Morris."

"I have a team ready to go in and make these caves safe from the animal or animals that are killing people. If your team will vacate the premises for the time being to let us destroy the animal then I can assure you, your team will be able to come back in safely to collect the fallen members of the research team." John said, his Marine background giving him the unmistakable authoritative tone that made the other officer back down.

"I'll give your crew twenty four hours to rid these caves of that animal. Regardless of weather conditions and the cavern environment being one to maintain the condition of the bodies I will not give scavengers a chance to mutilate those people. They were my friends and I'll not dishonor them and add further hurt to their broken families by allowing varmints to chew on them." The officer turned to the other remaining members of Rescue Services. "Alright everybody, let's head back to base." The crew men all seemed to breathe easier and packed up the gear, some heading back down the trail on foot while two took the ATVs. The officer looked at John again. "Here, you might need this to find those animals. It's a copy of the map that the research teams have made so far. Each group got a little further into the cavern but the map ends with the last group. Good luck." The man joined his crew on the trek back to the vehicles from the road.

Dean saw people coming around the bend in the trail and shoved Sam's head down below the door panel, following him down so they wouldn't be seen. He knew from the uniforms and the gear that they lugged with them that they were from Rescue Services and that it wouldn't be a good thing for them to be spotted. They got in their respective rigs and ambulances and fired engines, heading from the trail head back to Everett. Dean sat up when the sound from the last engine faded and allowed Sam to do the same. Shortly after he saw Bobby and John emerge from the trail and walk over to them.

"Okay boys, we have twenty four hours to end this thing and get outta here before they come back. Let's get some gear and head in." Dean jumped from the truck, instantly obeying John and went to the tailgate with his father, who used a key from his pocket to open his weapons locker that was kept under the bed cover. The large box opened to reveal an arsenal, all organized neatly and encased in form fitting foam liner that ran the length and width of the black metal locker from wall to wall. John pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and passed it to Dean, taking a rifle for himself. He held out another sawed-off to Sam, who shook his head and pulled his .45 from his waistband. Bobby reached over Dean's shoulder and took the sawed-off. Everyone took a deep breath and began walking up the trail to the black hole that held something evil.

**A/N: That's it for tonight. Please hit that little button and let me know you're still reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Aw, You guys rock!! Thank you all so much for the awesome reviews and reaction to this story so far. Here's the chapter for tonight. Enjoy! Again, any facts that seem off or anything that doesn't read quite right is all me and a lock of research. Please forgive.  
**

**Chapter 5 **

"You boys stay close to each other. Sam, let Dean take point." John pulled out the rough copy of the mapped out cave system. He pointed to several places on the sketched out map. "We have about eighty yards before the cave splits off into two branches. You two take the left branch and Bobby and I'll take the right. All of the killings happened when the cavers came back to the fork and started mapping the right branch after they'd finished with the left." John said, pointing to a rounded off section describing the dead end of the cavern, which according to the map's scale was nearly a mile into the heart of the mountain. "I'd say that the right branch is the thing's territory. We meet back here in two hours, regardless whether we've found the thing or not." John said, raising his hand to look at his watch. Dean did the same, holding onto a button. "It's 3:18... now." Sam knew both Dean's and his dad's watches would beep every half hour and at an hour and a half in they would double back and step up the pace to make it back to the fork. His bad feeling intensified, curling around his spine like a clammy fist. John and Bobby headed off down the right fork. John stopped and looked at his boys. "Be careful."

"You too dad. Bobby." Dean said, nodding once. Dean took off down the left tunnel, Sam following closely, watching his brother's back. They held their guns at the ready, gun hands crossed over hands wielding bright flashlights. They took it slow, cautiously looking in every corner and crevice that decorated the rough stone walls of the cavern. They soon found scuff marks in the dust that covered the floor, human footprints, boots by the looks of the tread. "This must be the first group's tracks. Dad said they mapped this first, so I figure since the crews had communicated with the topside worker in each case he knew where they were so the rescue guys didn't need to use this fork." Dean shined his flashlight around and noted four sets of tracks. "Definitely the first group. Let's go deeper, see if we can't find something." Dean stood and returned his gun to the ready, turning into the tunnel and moving stealthily forward, Sam's height allowed him to lift his .45 higher and sight over Dean's shoulder, knowing that its solid bullets had a better range than the shot gun. He fought to keep his hands from shaking.

"Aw, God." Bobby said as he and John rounded the bend in the right tunnel. He had come upon the first of the scattered body parts. It was an arm from the elbow down. The walls, Bobby noted as he shined his flashlight about, were stained with thickening crimson. Frozen water that had seeped through the walls stained pink enough to look like grotesque Kool-Aid. Bobby's breath steamed in front of his face as he hissed when his flashlight beam bounced off the remainder of the torn body. The man was literally shredded, long claw marks and visible teeth marks covering the body.

"Poor bastard." John said; grimacing as his stomach flipped. Their eyes moved further up the tunnel, coming to rest on another body, her long hair loose from its ponytail, her head barely hanging on as her throat was ripped out.

"My God." Bobby near whispered as he dropped his eyes to the cavern floor. Movement made him look up again. Something skittered across the tunnel, disappearing into the darkness out of range of their lights. Bobby quickly held his gun up, John aiming his rifle over his friend's shoulder. A growl sounded out ahead of them in the tunnel, the rasping sound bouncing off the black stone walls, reverberating around the two wary hunters. John took off down the tunnel after the shadow.

"John wait!" Bobby cried out chasing after his impetuous, pain-in-the-ass friend. John could smell it now, something akin to a moldy basement. He stopped and shone his flashlight into the corners and crevices that lined the rough rock walls. He saw nothing until he shined the beam around further up the tunnel. A flicker caught his eye. A growl sounded out, loud, menacing. John raised the rifle and moved a few paces forward, shining his flashlight in the direction of the noise. The beam fell on a creature no more than five feet tall. It had dry gray skin covered at points with blue tinged scales, its head, neck, shoulders, knees and feet, like armor. Long yellowed claws came into view as the thing raised a five fingered hand to shield its eyes from the bright light John had steadied on it. It growled and lunged, just as Bobby moved up beside him. Stained teeth bared and loomed over John as the beast's weight forced him to land hard on the stone floor. John's rifle fired wildly as his elbow cracked off the stone making his fingers go numb. The shot missed the beast and lodged in the cavern wall. Bobby, knowing he'd hit John if he shot, bent and grabbed the creature that had John pinned, dropping his shotgun when the beast thrashed and fought his grip. It bucked wildly, claws raking both men and lunged again, this time taking Bobby to the hard stone floor. John pushed himself upright and steadied the flashlight on the creature's eyes. It shrieked loud enough to make his ears ring as it flattened its pointy ears against its head and took off, disappearing into the darkness.

Bobby forced himself to his feet with a grunt, stuffing leaking out of his insulated vest where the beast's claws had caught him. Luckily his extra layers protected him from the cold and the claws. John dropped his arm to the cavern floor and lifted a knee as he lay there trying to catch his breath. His hand was beginning to regain feeling and he felt the sting of claw marks on the back but he knew they weren't deep. Bobby came to him and looked him over for injury. Other than blood on the back of his hand and a similar injury to his insulated jacket, there was nothing to be concerned about. "You okay, John?"

"Yeah. 'm okay." John said as he took the proffered hand. Bobby hauled him to his feet and he flexed the elbow that he'd hit on the stone, pins and needles shooting through it but he knew it wasn't broken.

"That damn thing got by us." Bobby said even as stark fear flared in John.

"It's goin' after the boys."

Sam and Dean had cautiously picked their way to the dead end of the left branch of the cavern in just over an hour. Dean looked around, his flashlight panning over the rough surface of the rock as his breath fogged in front of his face.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"I'm gettin' cold."

"Yeah, me too. Temperature's droppin'. He looked at his watch, turning on the indiglo. It's ten after four. Just about dark." Dean said as his flashlight beam sparkled off the ice flow that had dripped into the cave an frozen, making one wall look like a waterfall. The light blinded him and he shifted, averting his eyes from the glare. He caught movement and peered into the darkness behind Sam, where something caught his attention. He lifted the shotgun at the same time yelling, "Sam DROP!"

Sam let his legs go limp and did as Dean said without question. He felt the buckshot sail over his head. He turned slightly and looked up at the creature in time to see most of the shot bounce harmlessly off its thick hide. The beast shrieked in anger, making the dead end chamber and both Winchester's ears ring. Sam flinched as Dean came closer, and he stood once Dean had a clear shot from beside him. Sam fired as the beast roared, making Sam's head pound in tune with the reverberating sound. His vision swam and he fired again, now blinded by smoke from the guns and pain from the echoing growl. Dean fired the second barrel of the shot gun and hit the beast in the tender stomach, the shot finally giving them the upper hand as the beast staggered and its head tipped back. Sam managed to aim and this time hit the beast in the soft, unprotected tissue beneath its pointed chin and gaping mouth. It gurgled, the shrieking growl dying in its throat as it slumped to the stone floor. Sam made his way over to the creature, shooting one more time, this time just above its bat like nose between the yellow eyes. Dean came over and clapped Sam on the shoulder just as his alarm began beeping. The beep was drowned out by a rumble that seemed to start deep within the mountain. It grew quickly to a deafening roar as the chamber they were in began to shake. Dean glanced over Sam's shoulder and saw the wall to the left of the doorway shift. One of the stray bullets had hit a weak spot in the wall and it was coming down.

"Sam, Look out!" Dean turned, grabbing his little brother by the jacket and shoving him out to the way of the wall. As the boulders swept Dean off his feet he gave Sam a shove that sent him clear of the falling wall. Sam stumbled. Pushed hard by Dean and hit in the back of the legs by the falling rocks, he was propelled forward into an unforgiving stone wall. His head connected, blackness claiming him as he slumped to the floor. He was unconscious before the dust started to settle.

John had taken off at a sprint down the tunnel towards the fork. He stopped for a split second, hearing the distant sound of rapid gunfire. "My god, it found my boys." John took off again, followed closely by a worried Bobby. The two hunters made it to the fork and turned, running quickly down the left branch when the rumbling started, seeming to come from deep within the mountain. The cavern began to shake, the two stopping as the low rumble grew in intensity and changed to a roar. Dust billowed up the left branch, the cloud blasting over them and forcing them to turn their backs on the cloud as they shielded their faces and tried not to breathe in the suffocating dust. John clamped his bent elbow over his nose and mouth, using his clothing to filter the air he had to breathe. "NNOOOO!" He screamed as he heard the cavern come down on his boys' heads. John started to sprint to the source of his distress. Bobby caught him by the arm and pulled him up short, slapping a clean handkerchief into his hand.

"Tie that around your damn mouth and keep it shut. You'll suffocate in this dust if ya don't. If you're dead we can't help them boys." Bobby growled; his words muffled by the blue, dust covered handkerchief he had tied around his head, over his nose and mouth, looking vaguely like an Old West bandit with the scruffy beard peaking out beneath it.

John did as Bobby told him, eyes watering uncontrollably as he peered through the dust laden darkness, his flashlight beam not penetrating the cloud that hung heavy in the air. John wanted to think that the salt drops coursing down his cheeks to wash the dust from the handkerchief had sprung up because of the dust, but part of him knew better. _Oh, Mary, watch out for our boys. Please let them be okay. Let us find them. God, let my boys be alive. Don't take 'em from me._

"That thing could still be alive. We don't know that they got it and we can't see. Its lived in these caves for who the hell knows how long. If it doesn't know these tunnels, it can see in the dark, which means it has the upper hand."

"You heard the shots Bobby. I know my boys. I know the sounds of the guns they had. I heard Dean's and Sammy's. That damn thing is dead. They got it, I know they did. We have to get to my boys Bobby."

"We will, but we need to watch it. That thing gets the drop on us and we won't be _able_ to help them."

"Fine. Nothing is stopping me from getting to my boys though. NOTHING."

"I know John. Let's get to those two." John started down the tunnel, Bobby right behind. Both men had their guns held at the ready. John's flashlight was completely useless, just glaring back at him like high beams in a thick fog. He shined it at the stone floor of the cavern as he began seeing chunks of rubble. He still heard boulders shifting and groaning as stones shifted. He stopped when the tunnel widened out at the start of the dead end chamber that he remembered from the map that was stuffed into his back pocket. What he saw stopped him cold. A solid wall of downed boulders, sized from grapefruits to compact cars blocked the entire tunnel, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. John swallowed back bile as the thought of burying his boys slammed into his brain before he could stop it.

**A/N: Okay so it's a little longer tonight. Hope it read well and I really hope I see you all back tomorrow evening.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey everyone! Here's another chapter. Thanks again for all the great reviews, again pushing this one over the 100 mark for comments from all you great people.**

_**A few special thank yous to people: Dancerinthedark101, it's been great talking to you. Look forward to doing it again. To answer your question the car is about five and a half meters long.**_

_**Blue peanut: Thanks for the birthday card and yes the special story is still happening. don't worry it'll be on my homepage when I told you it would. My character Angel is so lucky;) Sammy always puts a smile on my face**_

_**Sammygirl: Glad to know that you're still liking this one and I hope the chapter does the challenge justice. Catch you soon.**_

_**Nana56: Thanks for the hint about the temp. I know caves are cold. Hope the temperature rings true for the dead of December in Washington state. **_

_**Everyone else: Thanks for the awesome reviews. Enjoy chapter 6!**_

**Chapter 6**

John drew a deep breath and inhaled a lungful of dust even through the handkerchief over his nose and mouth that had him coughing.

"God Bobby." He whispered when he finally caught his wayward breath.

"John, we're gonna need help." Bobby spoke up, fear for the boys choking him as effectively as the dust.

"Go topside. See if you can get cell service. Get whatever you can out of the trucks and come back down after you know that helps comin'." John barked as he began to start clearing a path to his sons. Bobby took off at a run up the tunnel to the fork, his feet quickly taking him out of the cavern and hopefully to help.

John's heart was thundering in his chest as he moved boulder after boulder trying desperately to get to his boys. He stopped moving the rocks and listened to see if he could hear his boys, see if they were doing the same from the other side. "SAM! DEAN! Dad's comin' boys, just hang on!" He shouted. The first bit of rubble was cleared. He was working quickly but pacing himself, making sure he thought out how to move each boulder so that the path he cut through didn't cave in again. He couldn't allow the rocks to slide and undo all his work or worse, bury his sons deeper. John stopped with a three foot indent in the rubble and yelled again. "SAMMY… DEAN! I'm comin'."

Sam stirred, coughing weakly, his throat and lungs burning. He forced his eyes open and shifted with a wince as memories slammed home in his foggy brain_. Oh god, my bullet, the rocks. My God. Dean, the wall came down. The wall came down on Dean!_ Sam shifted and sat up, realizing he was clear of most of the debris and only covered in dust. His head swam and he fell back to the cave floor, dizziness graying his vision around the edges. He fought it, knowing that Dean needed him. Sam lifted a hand to his head and winced as it came away dusty and sticky with his blood. He coughed again, his head pounding enough to make him sick. He rolled to his side and emptied his stomach as his body rebelled and he retched uncontrollably. Pushing himself into a sitting position he moved away from his mess. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and tasted the grit that coated him head to toe. "Aw, yuck." He muttered. "De…" He choked again. "DEAN!" He finally managed. His vision blurred as his cry reverberated through the cavern and made his ears ring. Sam forced himself to his feet and wavered as dizziness swamped him. He moved, nearly blind in the darkness, to where he last knew Dean had been. Stumbling over rocks, he made it to a huge pile of boulders ranging in size from bowling balls to truck tires.

"No, no, no. Don't let him be under that. No not that. Dean? Come on, man, talk to me. Let me know you're not under there man. DEEAAANNN!" Sam winced as his plaintiff cry came back to his ears and elicited pain from his rebelling brain. "God, my head." Sam groaned as the pain intensified. It caused him to double over, dizziness taking him to his knees again. He stilled, realizing he was cold. Really cold. "No gotta get to Dean." He chided himself and tried to stand, feeling like he had been hit by a truck. He made it back to his feet and stumbled several feet, coming to rest on a large boulder that had fallen. His foot hit something and sent it skittering across the floor to stop nearby at another fallen rock with a metallic clang. A picture flashed trough his head of his brother, dropping the shotgun he carried and his metal flashlight as he dove to knock Sam out of the path of the falling rocks. Sam shivered and steeled himself as hope surged. "Dean's flashlight. That has to be it." Sam struggled to see in the dark but he found the small cylinder and scooped it up. He flicked the switch. "Please work, please, please work." He whispered and was rewarded with a dim glow. He shook the light and it flickered before brightening. "Thank God." He cast the beam about and saw how many boulders had come down. "No." He choked out. The beam shone off something that reflected the light dimly. A dusty silver glow.

"Oh no." Sam stumbled hurriedly to the source of the silver glitter. Dean's right hand was illuminated by the beam. It was still.

John had a path cleared about six feet deep when Bobby came back, laden with things from the trucks. He had the med kit, blankets and heavy leather work gloves. "John, I got topside. We got a problem." John stopped and turned to Bobby, struggling to catch his breath through the dust covered sweat drenched handkerchief that covered his lower face.

"What the hell are you talkin' about Bobby?"

"It snowed while we were down here. A good foot. It's still comin' down like hell."

"Did you get a call through for help?"

"Yeah. They're tryin to get up here. Think the chopper and the bigger rigs won't be able to make it but they're sending out crews to clear the way so they'll be able to get through. It's gonna take a while."

"We have to get to the boys."

"I know." Bobby said, handing gloves to John. "Put these on Idjit, before you rip your hands up any worse and can't use 'em." John slipped into the gloves, wincing when he realized how ripped up his fingers were and how cold they'd become.

"Bobby, you happen to guess the temperature while you were out there?"

"Flakes are big and comin' down quick, I'd say about ten degrees."

"That'd make it what down here? About twenty maybe?"

Bobby stared, realization hitting him hard. "Damn, no. Hypothermia." Bobby and John began working together, moving the boulders that had been too heavy for John and then Bobby halted as John hollered for his boys again.

"DEAN! SAMMY! HELP'S COMIN' BOYS!" They started in on the rocks again.

"Damnit!" Jeff Browning cursed.

"What is it Jeff?" Terri Michaels asked; concerned with the way her partner was acting. "It's not that crew from fish and game is it? God, that thing didn't get them did it?" Terri had been on the rescue crew that had retrieved the other victims. _I don't think I can bring myself to go in again._ She had seen the way the second crew had fared and it made her sick to think about it.

"Naw, the guy who called in thought that two of the others had killed it."

Jeff was on the phone again and half distracted. "Hey Barry? Yeah it's Jeff. We need the road grater ASAP. We have to get to the cave with the rigs. We need a path for the ambulance and possibly the landing area cleared for the chopper." He was silent for a moment listening to the man on the other end. "Yeah, trust me I know the snow is still comin down hard. We have to get up there. There's been a cave in." Terri gasped in the background, now knowing why her partner was acting strange. He'd been trapped once in a cave in while on a rescue. Both he and the victim nearly suffocated before they were found. "Alright, I'll get the crews together and meet you to follow you up. We gotta hurry. Two men are trapped in the left tunnel at the dead end and two rookies are starting to clear the way. God only knows how many times those walls are gonna shift again." Jeff hung up and turned to Terri. "I understand if you don't wanna work with me on this one…"

"I'm in Jeff. I'm your partner. I'm in." Terri replied, already reaching for the small amount of gear they kept in their office. The two made their way to the garage bays where the rescue rigs were sheltered and prepared the rest of the gear. Pretty soon they heard a large rumbling engine and opened the doors to the snow, following the large machine with the fourteen foot wide scraper blade through the still falling snow and up to the trail that would take them to the cave.

"Dean! Dean, man talk to me!" Sam moved as quickly as he could to where his brother's hand peeked out from under the rubble as if Dean were begging for help. Sam brushed dust from the limp fingers and moved a small boulder about the size of a cannon ball, to get to Dean's wrist. All the while he was muttering just above a choked whisper, "Please, please, please." He fell silent and that simple repeated word became a litany as he closed his eyes when his fingers brushed Dean's pulse point. _ Please let me feel something._ Sam lowered his head to the back of Dean's hand and held his shaking, cold fingers as still as he could. _Please, Dean. Man, don't be… Please._

_Beat…beat…beat…_ Sam felt the sluggish beat beneath his nearly numb fingers. "Oh God, Dean. Hey man, I'm gonna get you out. Hang on, just…hang on." Sam jumped into action, pulling on his light leather gloves and ignoring the shivers that racked his lanky frame. His vision blurred as he stooped to move the first boulder and he stilled, willing himself to keep it together for Dean. He moved the boulder and went to the next one. Working slowly so he didn't hurt his big brother, he removed rubble and checked his pulse every few minutes. "Stay with me man." He'd say every time he felt that beat. He'd let go and move some more boulders, that _thump…thump…thump_ driving him to work quickly. His shivers gained intensity even as he worked, and as he paused to think about it he realized the temperature had dropped in the cave. His head rebelled as he brushed the thought aside and bent for another boulder. He fell to his knees again, bumping one hard off a rock. He felt his skin split and warmth slide down his leg as he forced himself to his feet again. He turned to his brother and lifted another boulder, this one was flat and about the size of a card table. He lifted it and flipped it off Dean, unable to force it aside any further. His brother's insulated jacket came into view. Sam dropped to his knees beside his brother and gently brushed dust from his lax face. Dean was face down, his eyes closed and head tipped at an odd angle as his temple rested against a small rock. Dust caked the surface of the small rock, transformed into crimson mud by Dean's seeping blood.

"Oh God, Dean." Sam checked his brother over for injuries and pushed another rock off his back. He gently lifted Dean's head and moved the rock out from under his temple, putting his clean handkerchief under Dean's temple. He held his brother's head still and brushed a leather clad thumb over his pale cheek. "Dean, hey. Need you to wake up now. Lemme know you're alright man. C'mon Dean. Aw, god. This is all my fault." Sam lowered Dean's head gently and sat back on his heels, regarding the tangle of boulders that still lay on Dean's legs. He looked at the small boulders that had contacted Dean. Larger ones rested on top of those, stacked like a pyramid on its point. Sam thought on how to get the boulders off of his brother without causing the little ones to shift and bring the big ones down. He fought to ignore the pounding of his head and clear his vision. Sam stood and moved towards the rocks, pulling at one he knew was safe to move and opening up a starting point for the removal of the boulders. _It's just like that JENGA game that you and I used to play when Dad was hunting and we were stuck in a crap room somewhere. I always whipped you at that game. I can do this. I can get you out man._

Sam moved another boulder and stilled when he heard something. He listened again. The sound came again, a moan.

"Dean!" Sam moved away from the wall and dropped to his knees at his brother's side. "Dean? Hey, c'mon wake up." Dean's eyelids fluttered and one managed to lift, revealing a washed out green eye that met Sam's worried hazel ones in the dark.

"Sam—my." Dean ground out, his face smashed ito the cavern floor, only cushioned by the bloody handkerchief under his temple.

"Hey, yeah, I'm here. How bad are you hurt?"

"Wha' appened?" Dean's eye searched Sam's face to see the bloody dust caked to the side of his head. "You …urt."

"I'm okay. It's my fault Dean. You're pinned and it's my fault."

"Wha'?"

"My bullet brought the wall down on you. I'm sorry. I'm gonna get the boulders off you and we'll figure out how to get out of here. Are you hurtin?"

"Boulders?" Dean looked puzzled before his pain glazed eye cleared again. "Cave in." He whispered. "Sammy, It's not…your fault." Dean said, turning his head so his face was clear of the floor. He winced at the pressure to the cut on his temple but stilled his movement and the pain eased up. He needed to see his little brother, to make sure he was okay. "You okay?"

"I just have to ge-get the boulders off your legs. I know you hurt but it's gettin' colder and we have to get out somehow." Sam wedged the flashlight in the crevice of two small rocks that were laying side by side forming a natural 'V'. The flashlight lay in the cradle, the beam illuminating the rocks that still rested on Dean's legs.

"I don't hurt, Sammy." Sam stopped dead at his brother's words.

"What?" He asked quietly.

"I can't feel… My legs. Just cold."

"Oh God." Sam whispered; his heart hammering. _Have I paralyzed my brother? No, no he's just cold, that's it. He's so cold that he's numb. That's all. He's okay. I have to get him out. Get him out and he'll be okay._ "I'm gonna move the rest of these boulders. They're probably just pressing on your legs and makin' them go to sleep." Sam moved back to the boulders and moved another one, the ones below it shifting menacingly, the sound of stone against stone making Sam's stomach rebel. He stilled instantly as the rocks slid in on each other and wedged again. They stopped before they could fall completely. Sam forced himself to settle down, to stop the shaking in his frozen hands and move carefully as he reached for another rock. He moved the boulder, one the size of a safe, and stilled as he heard more stone on stone noise. Sam stumbled under the weight of the boulder and sent it crashing to the stone floor not more and a couple feet from Dean. Dean flinched when the boulder hit, crying out in pain as he felt a bone in his back move where he knew it shouldn't. Pain erupted through him, taking his breath, and setting his previously blissfully numb legs afire. Sam's head protested the rapid movement and he fell to his knees, nausea and dizziness swamping him as his world spiraled out of control.

"Sammy." Dean cried, choking on dust as he tried to catch breath that wouldn't come. His brother was hurt, he sensed it as he tried to lift his head and find Sam with his worried, pain glazed eyes. He finally locked eyes with Sam to take in hazel orbs cloudy with pain. "Sammy."

"Dean." Sam whispered, slumping forward to the hard stone floor, his head audibly cracking off the rough surface. Dean stretched his free hand out, ignoring the pain in his back even as blackness threatened. He reached for the flashlight Sam had tucked in between two small rocks only a foot or so from him. He shined it on his little brother's face, hoping the glare would rouse him. It only served to show Dean the new pool of blood that had gathered under Sam's previously injured temple and how pasty white his face was. Dean uttered an oath as he took in the blue tinge that began to color Sam's lips and the waxy look his skin had taken on where his coat sleeve had ridden up. Dean himself had stopped shivering some time ago, he realized. His fingers were numb as they struggled to retain their grip on the cold steel flashlight.

**A/N: Uh oh! I did it again. What's up with Sammy? Find out tomorrow. Now I have to get writing so there is a post for Sunday. This one's not done yet people. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I need to apologize. Everyone has been so wonderful with the reviews and a few people made the comment that I'm such a faithful poster. Real life tightened my leash last night and I had nothing ready to go up. I'm working on the rest of this fic now and it may disappoint some of you but it's taken a different path and I seem to have no control over this one. MY MUSE HAS TAKEN OVER! Please enjoy this one and I'll give you the rest of this one as soon as it comes to me. I now know better than to PROMISE a chapter every night. Please review anyway and let me know you don't hate me for letting you all hang. At least this chapter is slightly longer. May it appease the review gods that are my readers.  
**

**Chapter 7**

Jeff and Terri followed the road grader's slow pace up the mountain to the cave that had caused the town of Everett to lose two of its best and several more good people who were only trying to do their job. Jeff's hand beat out a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel as his anxiety grew.

"Jeff." Terri said, making his name the soft spoken tones that calmed him down like nothing else. His hand stilled and he looked at her. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "We'll get them out."

"I know. I just hope it's in one piece." He pressed on through the heavily falling snow, staying a couple car lengths behind the grader. They rounded the corner in the road and saw that the ambulance that had been requested was waiting, lights flashing, and sirens silent for the long trek up the mountain. Jeff cast his eyes to the overhead console in the rugged SUV that was Everett, Washington's best rescue rig. The temperature display read twelve degrees. "Terri, those guys are gonna suffer before we can get to them."

Bobby stopped his movement towards the next boulder, something catching his attention via his sharp hunter hearing. He recognized it for that is was. The crash of stone against stone. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the fallen wall. John moved another boulder and looked at Bobby. "What is it Bobby?"

"I heard somethin'. I think we're close to the boys." John stared at Bobby before turning back to the wall. He got as close as possible and looked at the crevices in the rocks. He glanced back and realized that he and Bobby had moved over twenty feet of rubble. He could see the other side. Darkness loomed past the wall. He put his face to the rocks and yelled.

"Sammy! Dean!"

"_Dad!"_

"Dean?! Dean, we're comin'!"

"_Hurry… Sammy. Hurry……"_

"Dean? Dean?!" John turned to his old friend. "Bobby, he's hurt. My boys are both hurt. We have to get in there now!" John turned back to the thin wall of boulders that separated him from his sons. He reached for a boulder and his friend grabbed him roughly before he could pull the flat four foot long slab from it's resting place.

"John, damnit stop! We have one layer of rocks separating them from us. Everything is stacked up like a house of cards. Gimme that friggin' map you have." John pulled the rumpled copy from his back pocket and brushed the accumulated dust from it. Bobby snatched it and opened it up, smoothing out the wrinkles and pushing a tear closed. "Look here. See this?" Bobby pointed to the widening of the dead end tunnel, and just beyond, to where he figured they were standing. "This is where we are. We heard Dean on the other side. Sam's there too. If we're here," Bobby said tapping the wrinkled map with his forefinger, "Then that means that those boys don't have more than ten feet between them and the back wall. If we take down these boulders wrong we're gonna crush those two. You have got to calm the hell down and think about each piece."

"JENGA." John whispered.

"What?"

"It's like that game Sammy and Dean used to play. JENGA. Dean bought that game to teach Sam to think strategy. I thought they used it to pass the time while I was on hunts and they were stuck in some dive of a room but Dean used it to train Sammy. Dean is always doing that, picking something innocuous to teach Sammy something valuable."

"Well then, sounds like you need to learn too."

"I gotcha Bobby." John and Bobby started in on the remaining boulders, stacked at they were with gaps, and all dependent on the weight of another to keep from falling in on his boys. They scrutinized the wall and agreed on a stone, battle strategy coming to the front of their minds as they used it to plan every move and whisper against the boulders. John picked one from an area and Bobby would move one from another, working to clear a tunnel through without jarring the framework of rubble overhead. They made their own cave entrance in the wall of broken stone and got to the boys. Bobby whipped a flashlight from his jacket pocket and flipped it on, illuminating the fallen boulders that filled most of the chamber. His beam fell on the two youngest Winchesters and he made a noise low in his throat.

"God, Boys!" He said.

"Sam, Dean!" John cried out. He raced to his eldest's side and gingerly touched Dean's face. He was unconscious and cold. "Aw God, he's cold Bobby." John spared a glance at his friend to find him lifting Sam's limp form off the cavern floor, cradling his lanky frame close. "Bobby?" John watched as Bobby pulled off a glove with his teeth and ran a hand through Sam's dust ridden hair.

"It's Sam. Something's really wrong John. He's barely breathin' an' he's cold." Bobby turned his full attention back to the seventeen year old that he thought of as his own son. "Sam, Hey kid. Need you ta wake up for me, ya hear?"

Sam's brow furrowed, his eyes screwing tight as pain rocketed through his head. A familiar voice was telling him to wake up. It intruded on the blackness that had brought a comforting silence from the pounding of his head. "Unnnhh." He moaned.

"Yeah, Sam. That's it, wake up. C'mon kid." Bobby continued to run a cold hand over Sam's chilly brow, moving bangs matted with dust and blood back from eyes that continued to move behind their lids.

"Bobby?" Sam whispered. Pain glazed hazel orbs met his brown ones in the dim cave. Bobby had left his flashlight on, lying on the floor by his knee. The ambient lighting caused a shaft of pain to sear through Sam's head. He closed his eyes, willing the darkness to take him. Something was nagging him, forcing him to rouse fully even as Bobby captured his wayward attention again. "Dean?" Sam swallowed hard, the dryness of his throat making it near impossible to do more than rasp out monosyllable words.

"Ohnn." He moaned, trying to put a hand to his head. Bobby stopped him, instead touching a cool hand to his forehead. "Dad?"

"I'm here, son. I'm right here with Dean. We're gonna get you both outta here."

Sam bolted upright, fighting Bobby's soothing grasp. "Dad! Don't touch Dean!" Sam dissolved into a coughing fit and sagged into Bobby's arms.

"Why Sam?" Bobby asked, rubbing Sam's aching back gently as the coughs subsided into gasps

"He's… hurt. His legs…said he can't feel….his legs. I think his back…"

John ghosted a hand over Dean's spine gently, afraid to touch it at all. He felt it; the bump and heat of swelling that accompany a bad bruise or fracture. It was located just below his shoulder blades across the wide part of his back. His heart leapt into his throat, bile rising rapidly behind it and choking off his air completely as he struggles to get the words out. "I'm not sure if it's broken or not."

Jeff and Terri pulled to a stop behind the road grader as it rolled to a stop near the mouth of the cave system. Jeff pulled a portable radio from the keeper on the dash of the rig and keyed the mic. " Dispatch, this is Everett Rescue One. We're at the cave. We're gearing up and going in. Possible injuries to at least two Fish and Game officers caught in a cave in down the left branch. Could be more there were two other officers working at getting to the others."

"Rescue One, be advised, the snow is getting worse and the chopper cannot make it. Repeat, there will be no possible airlift. We're sending another ambulance to your position. Advise Barry to remain there to plow back to town. Be careful Jeff, you too Terri." A female voice said over the crackling radio waves.

"Will do Mary. Rescue one out." Terri looked at her partner and took in the grip he had on the radio.

"Jeff."

He turned his eyes to her. "Let's gear up and get them safe." He got out of the rig and headed to the doors along the sides that held their gear. Terri came around and helped, loading two folding stretchers and a large med kit onto a rolling cart that they would take down the tunnel. The cart had large air filled tires and could roll over the roughest terrain if steered by competent hands. They put on hardhats fitted with lights and heavier jackets with sturdy work gloves. They walked past the grader, the driver looking down as he slid open the small side window of the huge machine.

"Jeff, I'm stayin' put. I'll lead back to town if the snow gets worse."

"Count on it, Barry. Dispatch said it's choking the roads already. No airlift."

"Damnit." Barry said, his hope for the two trapped guys dimming. Jeff pulled the heavy cart and Terri paced with him as they entered the mouth of the cave. They headed down the left branch without hesitation.

Tears came to Sam's eyes at the confirmation of his worst fear. He'd hurt his brother badly, possibly paralyzed him. They couldn't move Dean for fear of doing permanent damage. He buried his head in Bobby's neck as chills coursed through him even as fever raged. Bobby held him as tight as he could without risking aggravation any injuries that Sam had that he didn't know about.

"Hey, Shh. Sam, Dean'll be okay."

Sam sobbed, "My fault Bobby…my fault."

"What do you mean Sam?" Bobby asked gently, shifting Sam when pain crossed his features.

"My bullet brought the wall down. My fault."

"No Sam." Bobby said. Sam shifted again, pain dimming the hazel of his eyes. "Sam, where do you hurt?" Bobby said, noticing how Sam had begun to writhe.

Sam coughed and began to wheeze, shifting again. Bobby felt the chill of the youngest Winchester. Sam moaned and his eyes rolled back in his head. "Sam! Damnit, he's goin' into shock. Has to be the cold and the dust."

John hurried to Bobby's side and stroked the hair back from his little boy's forehead. "Aw god, he's cold." A noise from the opening that John and Bobby had made drew his attention and he looked up to find two uniformed medics coming into what remained of the dead end chamber.

"How bad are they?" Terri asked, moving quickly to take vitals as Sam lay unconscious and writhing in Bobby's arms. Jeff quickly moved to Dean's side and John left Terri and Bobby to handle Sam, following the other paramedic to Dean.

"I'm not sure but I think his back's broken. I was afraid to move the boulders over his legs." John said, cupping his eldest son's cheek gently, careful not to move him.

"Terri, I need you here." Jeff barked, concerned with the injury and the young unconscious man before him.

"This one's in shock." Terri replied tersely. It hurt to see someone obviously so young suffering. "He's suffering from a head injury and has a bad cut on his knee. Bleeding's sluggish, he's slightly hypothermic." Sam wheezed and began coughing. "He's going into respiratory distress!" Terri slid a portable oxygen tank out of the large med kit and settled the mask over Sam's mouth and nose. "What's his name?" She asked Bobby.

"Sam, his name's Sam."

"Sam, my name is Terri Michaels. I'm an EMT with Everett Rescue Services. Can you hear me?" She pulled a stethoscope from the med kit and placed it to Sam's chest, listening to his heart struggling to beat. As she listened, Sam's heart evened out some, thanks to the oxygen he was now breathing. She left the tank in place and allowed Bobby to continue to hold Sam as she quickly put a silver emergency blanket over his body, tucking it around his shoulders. "He's breathing easier now, the dust he's inhaled is starving him of oxygen. The tank will help; don't let him slip the mask." Terri said as she patted Sam gently on the shoulder and moved to help Jeff with the other young man.

The paramedics and John slowly moved boulder after boulder off Dean's lower body. Jeff cut Dean's jacket and shirts away to reveal nearly black bruising marring otherwise waxy looking skin. Terri quickly pulled another silver foil emergency blanket from the kit and spread it over Dean's bare upper body. Jeff flipped a corner back up to look over the mottled black and blue flesh. He gingerly probed an area covering half of Dean's back from just below his shoulder blades to his belt. The whole area was badly bruised. Jeff stopped when he felt a pronounced change in the swelling and rigidity of the tissue. "Okay, we need to brace him. His back is fractured. I don't think the fracture has shifted. We need to make sure it doesn't. Let's get him secured and then we'll move him them by stretcher. There's an ambulance and more EMTs waiting at the mouth of the cave."

Terri stepped closer to Dean's head and crouched down again. Jeff had pulled a cervical collar from the large med kit and laid the back of it against the back of Dean's neck. She supported Dean's head as Jeff secured the Velcro closures. Terri caught the flutter of Dean's eyelids. "Hey, he's coming to." She touched his cold cheek and then opened his eyes one at a time, checking his pupils by shining her bright pen light in them. "Equal and reactive. He's got a gash on his head but no concussion." Dean flinched away from the light and moaned.

"Sammy." He said weakly, the words coming out muffled because of the collar limiting the motion of his mouth.

John leaned in. "Dean, shhh. He's here. You're both gonna be okay."

"Dad?"

"Yeah son. I'm here."

"'m scared. M' back hurts."

"It's okay Dean." John said, blinking back the unwelcome wetness that clouded his vision. "Paramedics are here. Just let them take care of you."

The female spoke. "Dean, I'm Terri and this is Jeff. You have a bad bruise on your back and a lot of swelling. Can you feel your legs?"

"Can't move 'em. Feel heavy. 'm cold."

"Okay Dean, we're going to flip you over and get you ready to go. I need you to tell me immediately if anything changes in the way your back feels alright?"

"Yeah."

"Mr.…"

John had to think for a moment what name was on his fake insurance card and what alias he was using for this hunt. "Waits."

"Terri and I are going to roll Dean over. As we do that I need you to slide the backboard under him."

"Got it." John said, reaching for the padded long board that Terri had unfolded and locked in an open position so that it could be used to prevent further injury to Dean's back.

Terri supported Dean's shoulders while Jeff got his waist and they rolled him onto the board, keeping his back stable. He was soon strapped to the backboard with his head taped down. Jeff listened to his heart beat and found him to be congested. The dust and cold were taking hold. Jeff quickly put him on the same oxygen set up that now helped Sam. "Dean, nod if your back feels okay when we get you on the stretcher." The two paramedics and John helped to put Dean on the collapsible stretcher that Terri had set up. They raised it to a comfortable ride height and Jeff looked anxiously at Dean. Dean nodded weakly and his eyes slipped closed. "Let's get him secured and to the hospital." Dean's eyes flew open at the feel of the first strap crossing his chest. It held his bare arms down beneath the silver foil blanket. Dean began to fight the restraints, pain making him gasp for breath.

John quickly put a hand to his forehead and met his imploring gaze. Dean's eyes welled with tears and John understood. He glanced at the paramedic that was fastening another strap. "Look, Jeff. You have to loosen them up." He said, pointing to the tight straps crossing Dean's body now at his chest, hips and shins. "He'll fight. He hates being strapped down. If they're not tight he'll control himself."

"If they're not tight and the stretcher hits a rough spot it could injure him further." Jeff argued.

"I'm trusting you know how to do your job and get my boys outta here without hurting them worse." John said with a deadly calm that had the EMT loosening the straps.

Dean felt the straps give just a bit and looked for his father. John saw the movement of Dean's head and stepped into his line of sight, smoothing a hand through his hair again. "It's okay now. Just relax and we're gonna get you to the hospital." Dean leaned into his fathers touch and closed his eyes. Soon two gurneys came out of the cave entrance and two more EMTs ran up through the blinding snow, taking over and hustling the injured into the ambulances. The road grader left, clearing a path back to town and the medics stabilized the two young men. Bobby stayed with Sam, not relinquishing his hold on the boy's shoulder for anything. Two ambulances and the rescue rig carrying Terri and Jeff rolled slowly along the cleared road back to town through swirling snow that showed no promise of letting up anytime soon.

**A/N: Again, sorry if anything medical reads like it came from someone who's never been seriously hurt, taps fist to head-knocking on wood 'cuz I haven't been. Also to Nana56: I was thinking back and the only cave I was ever in had an open ceiling in one place. I found it in the woods on my property when I was camping and it was cold. Hope the things I can't wrap my head around about caves don't take away from the story here. See you all as soon as I get this story finished. Please review for me. It just might appease the muse!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here's a little bit of angst and hurt Winchester's for you tonight. Again, any medical...oh, you've heard this a million times...blah, blah, woof woof. Enjoy the chapter and don't forget to drop me a line. **

**Chapter 8**

_At the hospital, two hours later._

A pair of hazel eyes opened to half mast. Sensations returned to Sam and he felt an itching beneath his nose. He raised a shaking hand up to his face and felt the plastic tube resting just above his upper lip. He turned his head and winced when the room continued to turn while his head stopped. He finally focused on his old friend sitting on a hard chair, leafing through a magazine. The silence of the room only broken by Bobby's breathing and the steady beep of the heart monitor that Sam realized he was hooked to.

"Bobby?" Sam rasped out. The older hunter jumped and shot to his feet, coming over to the bed to reach over the rail and grasp Sam's shoulder.

"Sammy. How the hell you feelin' kid? Damn, good to see those eyes of yours."

"My head… Bobby, where's dad and Dean?" Fear streaked through Sam and the heart monitor responded with a shrill series of beeps and flashing lights. "Dean? How's Dean?" Sam struggled to draw a breath and calm himself. He began to wheeze, thinking of what his brother could be going through.

"Sam, you gotta calm down kid. Ya hear me?" Bobby hoisted Sam into a sitting position and leaned in behind him, rubbing his back. Sam continued to wheeze even with the oxygen freely flowing into his lungs from the tube up his nose. "Breathe, kid. I'm gonna call the nurse." Bobby hit the button even as the nurse who was on duty bounded through the door.

"His alarm is going off at the station. What's going on?" Bobby laid Sam back on the bed. The petite dark haired nurse came forward to check Sam's vitals. She hit the call button again and soon a doctor came bounding into the room. "His oxygen levels are dropping again." The nurse said as the doctor listened to Sam's breathing, a scowl darkening his features.

"I want a chest x-ray and measure his blood gas levels. Get him on one hundred percent oxygen and see if that brings his sat levels up."

"Yes doctor." The nurse said as she waited for Sam's doctor to scrawl the orders on his chart. She left the room and returned seconds later with an orderly. She carefully removed the tube from Sam's nose and fitted a mask to his face. They lowered the bed to lay flat and Sam coughed raggedly, the wheezing getting worse immediately. The doctor stepped back up and listened quickly to Sam's chest before raising the head of the bed again. Sam settled down, his face regaining color to return from blue tinged to just paper white.

"Take him for the tests immediately and get the lab to put this on a priority." The nurse and orderly rolled Sam's bed out of the room.

"That's it." Bobby growled, "Tell me jus' what the hell is wrong with my nephew!"

"I won't know until I get the results back. It seems like pneumonia is taking hold. I think the dust that's coating his lungs is damaging the tissues. The alveoli in his lungs are coated, making it impossible for him to get enough oxygen in his blood. It could get bad if we can't treat it immediately. He could, in a sense, suffocate."

John sat waiting outside the ER for word on Dean. Bobby had gone to get Sam settled in some two hours ago and still no word on Dean. They had taken him for all sorts of tests and emergency care. _My boy's back is broken. Is he paralyzed? Will he ever walk again? Oh god, let him be okay. _John kept snapping out of morbid thoughtsto have his thoughts go to that thing that was in the cave, the reason the wall had come down. _Did they kill that thing? What the hell was it? Sammy said it was his fault the wall came down. Did he miss the thing? Did his bullet bring down the wall or just the noise of the guns? _He snapped out of the glower he'd fallen into when the door banged open and a doctor John vaguely recognized came through. He stood, now realizing that this was the doctor that had taken care of his son. One of his two sons who were, again, in a hospital because he'd gone off on a hunt unprepared, pulling them along for the ride that had come to an abrupt end with both of his boys paying the price yet again.

"Doc, my boy? Did you take care of my boy?"

"Dean Waits?"

"Yeah."

"I'm doctor Tolliver. I saw your son."

"And?"

"He's lucky. He suffered a minor injury to his ninth thoracic vertebra, also known as a T9 injury. There is a hairline fracture causing his spinal cord and surrounding tissues to become inflamed, swollen. He's conscious, but we have him on pain reducers and anti-inflammatory drugs to allow the swelling to go down. He needs to stay extremely calm and it's very important that he doesn't move his back or legs. He'll have twinges of feeling and should have very little discomfort moving his arms and head but he does need to take it easy. If he should be agitated by the lack of sensation in his legs I'll have to sedate him until it goes down. Explain to him how important it is that he must not jar that fracture until it heals. At this point traction isn't necessary."

"Can I see my son?" John asked the doctor.

"Follow me."

John stopped short when he entered the room. He saw Dean, laying flat on his back on the bed, with a fluffy pillow tucked under his head. A rhythmic beeping was sounding out form the hear monitor and Dean appeared asleep. John knew better though. He could feel fear radiating off Dean. He took a deep breath and walked up to his son, coming into his line of sight as two green eyes opened.

"Hey Dean."

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked his father, swallowing around a dry throat. John quickly reached for the glass with the straw in it and filled it from the nearby pitcher. He held the straw to Dean's dry lips and allowed him to sip until he pulled away. "Where's Sammy?" He asked again.

"The docs put him in another room. Bobby's with him now. Listen Dean…"

"No, you listen. He thinks he hurt me. He thinks he's responsible for my legs being… I need to see him. I need m' brother here to make sure he's okay. To make sure he doesn't blame himself for this."

"Okay Dean. I'll have the doctors move him in here. But you gotta listen to me. They told me some stuff that you need to know. You need to stay as still as you can. They don't wanna put you in traction but you gotta keep your back still. It's cracked and swollen. There's pressure on your spinal cord and it's what's makin' your legs feel like they do. The doc thinks once it goes down you'll be fine but you need to make sure you don't hamper that. If you hurt you let someone know. Understood?"

"Fine. Get Sammy."

Bobby burst into the room before John could say any more to Dean. "Bobby?" Dean questioned. The older hunter looked at Dean and then dropped his gaze quickly. "What? Bobby, what's wrong with Sammy?"

"They took him for tests. There's somethin' wrong with him. Doc thinks its pneumonia."

"No." John whispered. He ran to find out what was going on with his youngest.

"Sammy's got pneumonia?" Dean croaked, shock about the news numbing him more effectively than any pain pill.

Bobby nodded. "Thinks inhaling the dust triggered it along with the cold. Said something vague like suffocation." Before Bobby could explain what the doctor said John dragged the disheveled looking man through the door.

"This is Sam's doctor." John announced, before turning to the man. "Just what the hell is wrong with my boy?"

The doc nervously cleared his throat. "As I told his uncle there the dust he inhaled has coated the lining of his lungs and is restricting oxygen flow into his bloodstream. I sent him for tests and…

"Whoa, whoa, wait a freakin' minute. You're tellin' me my little brother can't breathe and you're waitin' on tests?!"

"He stabilized some after being put on oxygen. We're treating the early stages of pneumonia with an aggressive round of antibiotics. I'm going to have him settled in here. It's not necessary at this time for him to have special care. Now, if you'll excuse me, I did have his tests bumped up to priority status so I should have some results to look at so we can treat him properly." The doctor left, leaving Bobby and Dean staring after him. John sat on the chair beside Dean's bed and ran a hand over his haggard features.

The nurse Bobby remembered from earlier walked through the door and turned, facing the hallway; she latched on to something and pulled. A gurney came through the door, the orderly pushing from the other end.

"Sammy!" Dean cried, stretching up to see his brother's lax face. Dean cried out and stilled immediately, pain radiating through the middle of his back and fire flared through his legs.

"Dean, damn it lay still!" Bobby chided.

The nurse settled Sam's gurney, locking the brake once it was in place against the wall. She took the tube off the portable oxygen tank that rested on the bed with him and connected it to a port against the wall. She adjusted digital controls and checked Sam's vitals. She nodded and turned to face the other men in the room. "He's stable now. The antibiotics are working and the oxygen is helping. If you need anything page the desk." She and the orderly left the Winchesters and Bobby is stunned silence as they took in their Sammy's appearance. He was waxen looking and entirely too still. Even at seventeen, his tall, lanky frame appeared small and lost in the swath of white sheets that covered him from his chest to his feet. His head was slightly elevated on a white shrouded pillow, his chestnut, unruly hair marring the surface as it surrounded his head. John swallowed hard and went to his youngest son's side. Running a hand through those unkempt waves, he felt the heat radiating off his son's skin.

"Aw, Sammy." John said softly. "Hey, kiddo. We're here. Dean's here, Bobby. We need you to wake up Sammy." John watched on as eyelids fluttered and two glassy hazel orbs blinked at him before sliding to half mast.

"Dad?" Sam whispered, his hoarse voice further muffled by the mask over his nose and mouth.

"Hey kiddo." John cooed, running a gentle calloused thumb over Sam's forehead.

"Dean?" Sam whispered again. John quickly shifted aside, allowing Dean to see his brother.

"I'm here Sammy."

"Okay?" Another muffled whisper as Sam's head lolled on the pillow to look at his brother.

"Yeah, 'm okay." Dean said, shifting his eyes to his leaden legs before faking a smile for his little brother's benefit. Sam's eyes blinked and slid closed again.

**A/N: Awwww, poor Sammy. Should I make him better? Or should I... Ahhhhh! The mad muse is taking over again!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Okay, here's the end of this fic. Now that Real life has stopped being a pain I've had time to give this what it deserves. I'm not saying all the medical stuff is right or the times or anything. This is fiction. Angst abounds in this chapter and there's a little twist I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for taking the time to read and I hope you'll all review one last time. Sammygirl, I hope you haven't been disappointed. **

**Chapter 9**

"Dad, I need to be closer to him." Dean said, his eyes searching frantically over his little brother's profile. Dean shifted on the bed, hissing in pain when it jarred his injuries. Dean coughed at the end of the indrawn breath, his throat tickling. Bobby moved in and gave him a sip of water.

"Dean, damnit!" John growled. "Do you want to be paralyzed? Last I checked it was hard to chase a Wendigo in a wheelchair!"

"John, you damn idjit!" Bobby cried.

"Don't." Dean growled, using John's tone on him with startling similarities. "I know how to handle this. I know what I want and if I have to hurt a little to help my brother then I will! You told me all those years ago to take him out of that house. You put him in my arms, Dad! You gave me that responsibility and I'm not dropping that. Not now, not EVER! Where were you when he was sick, every time he fell, huh? Sammy was right. You are obsessed. I took care of him! Hell, I practically raised him! Why don't you leave my little brother to me and go find yourself something to hunt? Why don't you actually find the thing that killed mom and butt heads with it instead of the people who really need you right about now?!"

"Dean." John said, instantly quieting.

"No. Not now. Just go." John turned and walked from the room. Bobby looked on after him, and then turned back to Dean, tears shining in his eyes as he watched Dean dash a shaky hand across his own eyes as he looked at his brother who never moved once through the last few minutes.

"Dean." Bobby started.

"Just keep him from doing something stupid Bobby. I can look after us. Been doin' it for years." Dean said quietly. Bobby pulled a small consecrated wrought iron knife from his boot and handed it to Dean, who gripped the blade in his fist before sliding it between the mattress and the frame of the bed. Bobby left the room, shaking his head sadly.

Dean hit the call button that was clipped to the rail of his bed, near his pillow. A nurse came in a few minutes later. "How are you feeling?" She asked him.

"Like I've been buried under rocks." Dean replied, not looking at her. "Look, can you move me closer to Sammy?"

"I'm sorry. I can't. If he needs something you'd be in the way."

"I can give him what he needs."

"You can't give him the medical care he needs. I can't move you closer. I'm sorry. Do you need anything else?"

"Yeah, you gone and the door shut." Dean said, leaning his head into the pillow to stare at the tiled ceiling, effectively dismissing her. The nurse left. Dean's face grew stormy. His fist reached out and smashed the call button clipped to the bed rail. The impact shattered the small box, sending bits of plastic and metal raining to his sheets and the floor. He shifted on the bed, trying to feel something, anything besides the heavy uncooperativeness of his legs. He felt the jab of pain again and embraced it as fire flared through the nerves running to his toes. He stopped when the fire scorched him, turning into a searing pain that left him panting, coughing slightly as his body fought the last of the dust he'd inhaled. He wondered why he hadn't had the trouble Sam had. Then memories came back to him, like the curtains being drawn back on an unbearably bright morning. Memories of shoving his brother as the wall came down, memories of pain and seeing nothing but brown and gray stone and then black as they covered him over_. I didn't inhale as much as Sammy because I wasn't exposed to the air for as long. Damn it. He breathed it all in trying to dig me out. Sammy got worse helping me_. He looked at his brother's still form. "Aw, Sammy. Why do you always let us hurt you?"

Dean stared at his brother and watched him sleep, eventually a restless slumber claimed him and he dropped off, still facing his brother.

A pair of hazel eyes slid open as Sam heard his brother's breathing finally even out. Tears leaked from the corners and trickled down his temples, moistening the gauze that covered his temple on one side and his hair on the other. "He's right. I'm sorry Dean." Sam barely managed to whisper. _I hurt you and I'm so sorry. Hope you can forgive me someday. _Sam's shining eyes slid closed.

"John, you dumb sonuva…. would you stop for a friggin' minute?!" Bobby yelled as he took off after John as the man made his way out the door of the small hospital. John refused to stop. Bobby stalked forward and grabbed his arm, spinning the man and plowing a fist into his jaw in the same second. John staggered back, his head whipping to the side from the punch that Bobby refused to pull.

"Ow, you bastard! What the holy hell was that for?!"

"You deserve it ya jackass! What the hell do you think you were doin in there?" Bobby said irate, even as he flung his arm in the general direction of the boys' room.

"Dean is playing with fire. He doesn't know when to quit. If he hurts himself again every demon out there is going to come down on us to get to him! I can't watch that. I can't watch him lose the use of his legs because he's too damn bullheaded to stop…"

"Listen to yourself John! You damn dumb ass, just who the hell does he sound like when you talk about him like that? Y'know, I should drag your ass out back and pump ya full of rock salt! He sounds just like you! Hell, they both act just like ya. Don't give a damn about themselves if someone else is sufferin'. You taught those boys good. They're just as stupid as you are!"

"I am done with this Bobby! Don't you tell me how to deal with my boys! You're not a father, you don't know…"

"No, I _don't_ know, John. I don't know what it's like to have boys of my own, but I know what it's like to love a couple stubborn young-uns like they _are_ mine. I know too what it's like to watch someone who _should_ know piss it all away because he can't look past himself and what drives him. I swear to god John, one of these days you're gonna lose them both. And when you do it's not gonna be anyone's damn fault but your own!"

"Bobby…"

"I'm goin' with you and you're gonna cool your damn head John Winchester. We're not comin' back 'till you got it screwed on right and realize just what's important that you're missin' by stayin' outta that room."

Dean startled awake, involuntarily flinching as something jarred him from the slumber and brought him fully alert nearly instantly. Then he heard it. A fast, shrill beep coming from the other bed in the room. His head snapped to the side. "Sammy!" Sam's back was arched on the bed; his head flung back as he gasped for breath even with the oxygen mask fitted snuggly over his nose and mouth. Sam began wheezing harshly, his body striving to get the oxygen that it needed desperately. The hair on the back of Dean's neck stood up and the air in the room grew chilly. Dean's panicked gaze shifted from his brother to a dark shape that appeared in the room.

"What the hell do you want?" The shadow raised a hand, buried in the folds of a translucent black cloak. A pale, barely human hand folded to a fist and one finger extended to point at his brother. "SCREW YOU!" Dean screamed. "There's no freakin' way I'm lettin you take him! Those docs are gonna hear that alarm. They're gonna come in here and you won't get him!" The shadow turned to Dean and red eyes glared at him from beneath the folds of a hood. The eyes glowed for a split second and the alarms died to silence. Sam's monitors smoked and went black. Sam continued to gasp, now drawing useless, rasping breaths, stuck under a mask that was no longer giving him what he needed.

"He's mine." A grating, dead voice rang in Dean's ears making him cringe.

"NEVER!" Dean pushed himself upright; ignoring the pain that coursed through him like someone was pounding nails into his back. Ripping the knife from it's hiding place, he pulled his heavy legs over the edge of the bed with a shaking hand and stood. Pain flared through the soles of his feet, up his legs to turn them to quaking jell-o. He pushed the agony, the feeling of walking over a bed of searing red coals, to the back of his mind and forced himself forward. One step-stagger, another steadier step, another, and Dean launched himself at the shadow. He arced the knife through the air, slicing through the shadowy figure. It screeched, repelled by the blessed metal, and faded away, the chill in the room dissipating with it. Dean barely stopped himself from face planting on the hard tile floor when his nerves caught fire as surely as if he were bodily in hell itself. He turned and staggered to the foot of Sam's bed, his shrieking legs falling from beneath him, the only thing holding him up was his strong arms lying heavily on his brother's legs. "Sammy." Dean groaned, using his upper body to pull his leaden legs with him as he strived to reach the baby brother that so badly needed him.

He reached the side of the bed and again used his upper body to hold himself up as he pulled Sam's mask away from his face. Sam was gasping harshly, a wet gurgling sound coming from his chest and issuing out his open mouth. Dean flopped onto the bed, his legs hanging uselessly over the edge, and jerked Sam into a sitting position. His back protested the lifting and cracked, sending pain rocketing through him and calling in black spots to cloud his vision. "Sam-my, breathe." Dean cried desperately, weakness slurring his words. Sam gave a gasp and began coughing, gray laced mucus spewing from his mouth. Dean reached out and grabbed Sam's water pitcher. He hurled it at the door to the room and it hit with a loud thud, the plastic breaking against the solid wood door. A nurse hurried in the room to find Dean holding Sam in a sitting position and the color draining from his face. She turned back to the open door and screamed. Bobby came down the corridor towards the room, John right behind him, both men breaking into a sprint when they realized that the nurse was screaming from Sam and Dean's room.

"I need help in here!" She raced in and seconds later several others followed. The nurse and another, a male, took Sam from Dean while two more, a male nurse and a doctor stabilized the older Winchester. He fought, albeit weakly, not wanting to let go of Sam.

"What the hell?!" He cried.

"Bobby…" Dean moaned out. "Don' let 'im alone…." Dean slurred as he gave into the pain and darkness, the two males catching him and trying to still his body as he slumped in their arms.

"Get him to X-ray, stat!" The doctor said as another nurse stepped up to immobilize Dean's back again. Once he was secured they wheeled him out of the room and to an emergency X-ray.

Three hours later the doctor came back in to find Bobby sitting with a still unconscious Sam. He'd just left John waiting for word on Dean. The older hunter looked at him and took in the expression on his face.

"What's wrong with my nephews?" Bobby asked the man.

The doctor pulled an empty chair closer to the older hunter and sat wearily. "Dean was taken to surgery after we got the x-ray back. The crack widened and a piece of the vertebra chipped and nicked his spinal cord. We've called in a specialist to repair the damage. It'll take time but the specialist is hopeful that he'll regain most of his mobility."

"And Sam?"

"Dean saved his life. The monitors and Sam's oxygen supply suffered from a power surge. The equipment is fried. Sam was literally suffocating to death on mucus until Dean pulled him upright. He expelled it and with it came a lot of dust. He's breathing easier and responding to the antibiotics now. I expect him to be up and about, fully recovered, in a couple weeks. Dean will take longer.

"Somehow I don't think he'll mind having to take it easy. His brother is alive because of him." Bobby said.

Bobby glanced at Sam as he spoke and saw the boy's eyelids fluttering behind the new, working oxygen mask he now wore. The old hunter moved closer to Sam. "Hey kid. Can ya wake up for me? Sam?" Sam's eyelids lifted to half mast and he looked at Bobby. He smiled wanly from beneath the mask.

"_mmnnn…. Bobby?"_ Sam's muffled voice came to his ears and brought a smile to his face.

Bobby reached out and stroked the hair back from his forehead. "Hey, Sam. How you feelin'?"

"_Little better."_ A shaky hand reached towards the mask and Bobby stilled it.

"Easy Sammy, you gotta let it there for a bit."

"I'll look him over and if it's a go we'll take him off the mask and put him on a nasal cannula. If you'll just give me a moment?"

"_Bobby?"_

"Yeah, kid?"

"_Dean." _

"I'll find out for ya. You just do what the doc wants okay?"

Sam nodded and Bobby left.

A while later Bobby and John came back into the room to find Sam sitting upright, reclined against two fluffy pillows with a nasal oxygen tube in place.

"How's Dean?" Sam asked.

"He's gonna be okay in a few weeks. The docs repaired the damage. It'll take time but Dean's gonna be fine." Bobby said.

John moved forward and perched hesitantly on the bed next to Sam. "What about you Sammy? How ya feelin'?"

"Tired."

"I'm sorry Sammy."

Sam looked at his dad, recent memories clouding his mind. He didn't speak.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you. That I put you boys in danger to hunt something without knowing my ass from a hole in the ground first. I was stupid and you both almost paid for that stupidity. I… love you Sammy." John choked, blinking back unwelcome moisture.

"I love you too dad."

**Epilogue: Seven weeks later.**

John and Sam returned to the hospital, walking the now familiar hallways down to the physical therapy rooms. Sam pushed open the double doors and locked his eyes on his brother. Dean was walking between two waist high bars that ran the length of the room. Over the last three weeks Dean had gone from leaning heavily on them, his knuckles white as he gripped, to just skimming his hands over the smooth steel surface.

Dean glanced up to see Sam standing just inside the doors beaming at him. "Sammy!" Dean said, pulling his hands from the rail to lift them above his head in a gesture of happiness. Sam grinned at his brother and walked over to lean against the rails. Dean put his hands back on the smooth surface as he met his brother's eyes. When Sam got closer to Dean he saw the beads of sweat on his forehead and upper lip. He handed Dean the small towel that hung on the end of the rail. John walked up to Dean then to stand near his sons.

"You ready to go home dude?"

"Damn straight." Dean said, standing tall again. He gestured at Mike, the physical therapist. "Damn guy enjoys cracking the whip way too much!" Dean grinned at Mike and then his family as he laughed.

**Review. Please?**


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